#and he mentioned that all those with the mark (who is literally everyone apparently???)

[bazelgeuce]

Is it just me or have boomer christians lost their minds

[vanteguccir]

Medium girl | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader | Nick and Chris Sturniolo x reader (platonic)

Summary: Where Y/N is a medium and Matt's girlfriend. She is invited to participate in the collab between Sam & Colby and the Sturniolo Triplets but ends up being targeted by ghosts all night.

Warning: Paranormal, supernatural, ghosts, mediumship.

Requested?: No.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

PS.: I spent long hours writing this, I was so excited because of the video and how this would come out! I hope you guys like it ♡

PS. 2: Another version of this same "universe" that I wrote.

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"Guys, today we have some very special guests. You literally spent months asking us to do a collaboration with them." Colby said as he walked through the Driskill Hotel Hall with Sam at his side holding the camera. "The Sturniolo Triplets and Y/N!" The brunette finished, pointing to the four mentioned while the camera lens focused on them.

The duo had just finished their initial presentation of the channel and the place where they were, happy to finally do something that their fans had asked for so much.

"Are you guys excited?" Colby asked, clasping his hands in front of his chest as he looked at them with excitement on his features.

"Super excited." The triplets responded at the same time, smiling broadly.

"Very!" Y/N responded from beside Matt, her left hand rested on the brunette's covered back while Matt's right arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"Are you guys scared, nervous, or just excited?" Colby asked again, looking briefly at the camera.

"I'm scared." Chris responded quickly, his hands resting on his waist.

"I'm terrified." Nick admitted without reservation, receiving laughter from everyone there.

"I'm super excited, a little nervous, but super excited." Y/N spoke, nodding as a smile spread across her face.

"We wanted to ask this to you specifically. You're a medium, right?" Sam asked from behind the camera, adjusting it in his hands so that the lens caught the four of them and Colby, but with the focus on Y/N.

"Yes I am." The girl nodded.

"She's Lorraine Warren herself." Nick interrupted, pointing briefly at Y/N with his left hand.

"It's not that big of a deal, Nick." She rolled her eyes, not holding back her smile when she saw the boys laughing at the oldest of the triplets' joke.

"But you're good, right? We watched some videos and podcasts of the triplets, and they commented a few times in them about you being a medium." Colby took the lead, looking at her carefully, hoping she could help them with the investigation of that video.

"She is great." Matt spoke before Y/N could open her mouth, carrying a big smile on his face and a proud look in his eyes.

"I don't consider myself great." The girl rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's comment, feeling her cheeks heat up. "I've always had this 'power'." She made the quotation mark gesture with her hands. "I can see, hear, and feel. I remember that when I was a child, I didn't understand anything, and I was scared to death, especially because people said that only I could do those things, I felt crazy. Until my mother took me to my grandmother when I was 9 years old, and they explained it to me together. My grandmother was a great medium, and apparently, that passed on to me." She explained briefly.

"So you can do all three? And you have control over them?" Sam asked from behind the camera again.

"It depends on what the spirit or demon wants. I can feel anything, both energy and proximity. As for hearing or seeing, it depends on whether the spirit wants me to see or hear them. But when they want, I do all three perfectly, everything becomes very clear to me, as if they were really there in the flesh." Y/N explained, receiving nods from Nick and Chris, who were next to her paying attention to her words, even though they already knew that.

"And how do you react to that? You live together, right?" Colby turned to the brothers, bringing their attention to them.

"Yes, we always knew that Y/N was a medium since we all grew up together in Boston. When we moved in together after moving to LA, we not only knew, but we started living it." Nick began explaining, his eyes going from his brothers to Sam and Colby.

"Yes, she never went into much detail about what she saw or heard because we were always a little scared-"

"You're all pussy's." Y/N cut Chris off, releasing the sentence with a smirk on her face. Colby laughed loudly, shaking his head.

"Thank you, my love." Matt scoffed, getting a "your welcome" in return.

"It has become normal for us to be talking to her, and out of nowhere, she looks at a specific point that, for us, has nothing. Or she stops paying attention to what we are saying to listen to something that someone from beyond is saying." Chris continued after rolling his eyes at his sister-in-law, already used to her jokes.

"Yes, it's scary. Sometimes, she wakes up in the middle of the night and stares into space, sitting on top of our bed. I just pull the blanket over my head and pretend I'm not seeing it happening." Y/N slapped Matt's arm after his comment, muttering a "best boyfriend ever".

"Do you think you'll be able to capture the movements here well?" Colby turned to her, looking at her with a curious look.

"I hope so. I'm hopeful that they will be open to me and show me what I need to know." Y/N nodded, breaking into a smile.

Matt moved his right hand down to Y/N's left, intertwining their fingers and caressing his girlfriend's soft skin with his thumb, knowing how much she was looking forward to the video and wanting to feel helpful, even if she didn't need to be a super medium for this.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The six were now standing near the staircase where Samantha had apparently died after chasing a ball and tripping, rolling down the stairs.

Sam was standing on the second step while Matt and Chris were on the left side of the staircase, Matt leaning on the handrail, and Nick on the right side as they listened to the blonde's explanation.

Y/N was a little further away, Sam's voice was muffled to her while her ears picked up indecipherable whispers from all sides, as if many people were trying to ask for help, explain what happened at the hotel and sending hateful comments at the same time.

Matt's presence approaching her broke her from her trance, making her look up at him, seeing his worried expression.

"Is everything okay, baby?" He asked in a low voice, not wanting to attract the attention of the others.

"Yeah, I'm just trying to get a feel of the environment." Y/N responded in the same tone of voice, smiling softly, trying to calm her boyfriend and herself.

She was already used to seeing and hearing spirits since she had done it all her life, but this experience was different from any other she had ever had.

Nick looked at her momentarily, asking her if she was okay with just a move of his lips, receiving a nod in return.

Y/N decided to get closer to the others so she could focus on their main mission there, receiving answers from the spirits through the lanterns.

"Samantha, are you the only one up here on the stairs?" Matt asked after the boys asked several questions, his right hand holding Y/N's, trying to convey comfort.

"No." Y/N replied seconds before the red flashlight turned on, receiving looks from the five on her.

"Do you see any other ghosts up here?" Sam asked, watching Y/N's reactions carefully.

"Yes, I can't see them all clearly. Many are blurred, but I can see at least three up here, besides Samantha." The girl explained, briefly pointing to the spots where she saw the three aforementioned ghosts before turning her attention to the boys.

"Can you see Samantha?" Chris asked, raising his eyebrows, his blue eyes wide in curiosity.

"No, she doesn't want me to see her. But I feel her... Here." Y/N counted, closing her eyes briefly before pointing to a specific spot between Colby and Nick.

Nick looked at the indicated spot, moving away and going to Matt and Chris' side, feeling shivers run up his spine. Colby focused the camera on there, as if waiting for something to reveal itself to the lens.

Matt looked up at his girlfriend, watching her carefully, trying to make sure she was okay.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The six were now on the mezzanine, ready to stand in front of old mirrors, which were very expensive, while they tried to call for spirits through them, specifically for Carlota.

"Hey Carlota, we have five men here, but only four are single, and one of them is off limits." Matt began, looking around briefly as his right arm held Y/N close to him by her waist, not wanting to lose sight of her in the dark of the room.

Colby and Chris began to say pick-up lines into the air as they looked around blindly, causing Y/N to laugh. She couldn't believe they were actually doing that.

The scent of roses intensified around the group, making the girl divert her attention from the boys and also look around, looking for a source of the smell.

An intense tug on her hair made her take a step back, her hands flying to the spot as if she was trying to feel someone there, turning around abruptly.

"What was that?" Colby asked, stopping in the middle of one of his nonsensical pick-up lines.

"Someone pulled my hair." Y/N responded quickly, keeping her gaze firmly on the space where she felt a presence.

Matt turned to look at where his girlfriend was looking, keeping his hand in contact with her body, wanting to make sure she was still there.

"Are you sure that-" Chris began, stopping mid-sentence when he saw Y/N stumble forward, causing Matt's hand to lose contact with her body.

"Why don't you appear in front of me instead of pushing me around, Carlota?" Y/N spoke out loudly, her tone angry while her eyes rolled across the room, feeling several presences and trying to look for Carlota among them.

"Wow, calm down, baby." Matt asked, moving closer and touching her shoulder, only to have Y/N pushed to the side again.

It was obvious that that spirit, Carlota, if Y/N's intuition was right, didn't like the girl there for some reason. This was made clearer by the fact that she only pushed Y/N but didn't even touch the others.

"Are you sure it's Carlota?" Sam asked from behind the camera, zooming in on the lens and moving it so the camera captured the entire place.

"I can't see her, but I feel her presence. And it would make sense. She likes to be pampered and praised by men, having another woman in the same room as her might offend her." The girl explained.

"Or make her feel threatened." Nick added, receiving a nod from Y/N, who was still looking at specific points in the room.

"Get out." A whisper echoed directly against the girl's right ear, making her turn around abruptly, seeing only the female silhouette for a few seconds, before it disappeared like smoke.

Matt approached Y/N quickly as he saw her begin to show her nervousness, wrapping his arm around her waist firmly again, marking his territory and taking on a serious expression, looking around as if confronting whatever was there.

“You are not allowed to touch Y/N.” Matt stated, his voice echoing in a serious tone, tightening his grip on the curve of his girlfriend's waist.

The six stood in silence for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen again, but nothing happened.

"Matt took a firm stance, which probably proved to Carlota, or whoever was doing it, that they shouldn't touch Y/N." Colby explained to the camera. "If it worked so quickly, it probably means you have an aura similar to mine." He turned to Matt, who looked back at him with a confused look, not understanding what that meant.

"It is said that the spirits are afraid of Colby because he has a very "firm" aura, which scares them and makes them obey him." Sam explained, lowering the camera a little so he could get a better look at the couple.

"That explains why the manifestations at home lessen when Matt is around me." Y/N contemplated, bringing her right hand to Matt's left on her waist, stroking the area lightly in gratitude.

Colby resumed his explanation of what they would do in the room after noticing that nothing else would happen to Y/N, focusing his attention on the camera lens.

Matt brought his face closer to the top of his girlfriend's head, sealing his lips in the area for a few seconds, before moving away and exhaling the smell of shampoo and perfume that Y/N exuded, calming himself down.

"You guys are so cheesy." Nick interrupted their moment with a smile on his face, getting closer to feel some sense of comfort.

Y/N just laughed as she rolled her eyes, resting her head on her boyfriend's covered chest, feeling grateful to have him there to protect her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Do you want to do it yourself?" Sam asked Matt.

Matt and Sam had just gotten out of the elevator after doing the ritual, which brought no results. The boys that stayed behind were surprised, saying that the ritual lasted just a few minutes, less than they expected.

Y/N was next to Nick, looking carefully inside the elevator as if expecting something to appear there, but there weren't even any traces of ghosts, which left her confused.

Matt looked at Sam for a few seconds after his question, shrugging as if to say, "I'm already here, why not?"

"Babe, can I come with you?" The girl's voice sounded among the group, making everyone look at her briefly.

Matt nodded quickly, feeling relief fill his heart, knowing that he wouldn't have to do it alone anymore. He raised his left hand in the air, waiting for his girlfriend to take it, intertwining their fingers tightly.

"What if you never come back?" Nick began, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"I promise I'll bring him back intact." The girl interrupted the drama. "I'm Lorraine Warren, remember? I'm going to protect my Ed Warren." She added, making everyone laugh.

"Send me the numbers." The brunette asked, looking at Sam as he fished his phone out of his jeans pocket.

The couple entered the elevator, Matt holding the camera in one hand and his phone in the other.

"Don't forget to say "take me to another world"." Sam remembered before the doors closed, the two of them repeating the words being the last thing he heard.

"Okay, let's do this." Matt unlocked his phone screen, opening the messaging app and clicking on Sam's chat, seeing the texts with the numbers.

Y/N read over her boyfriend's shoulder before leaning over and clicking the button for the first floor, taking a deep breath.

"Are you okay, baby?" Matt asked in a low voice, arranging the camera in his hands so that the lens framed the two of them before turning his head to look at her.

"Yeah, just nervous." Y/N began, turning to face her boyfriend while putting on a nervous smile, cracking her fingers in an act of anxiety. "It's just been too much, I've never felt so many presences at the same time."

"I know, baby. I'm here-"

Matt stopped mid-sentence when the elevator door opened, the two of them turning to the it quickly, their eyes traveling down the hallway, scanning the place.

A sigh escaped Matt's lips when nothing happened, his hands relaxing and the camera moving slightly as he leaned in to click the next button.

He reread the texts sent by Sam before putting away his phone, taking his free hand to Y/N's shoulders and pulling her close, the warmth of her body calming him.

"You're brave today. I like this new Matt." The girl commented a few seconds later, looking up, her eyes meeting the blue ones she loved so much. Matt smirked, lowering himself momentarily, sealing his lips over Y/N's forehead.

The two remained in that position, their heartbeats accelerating each time the elevator doors opened again, before they relaxed when nothing happened.

Until the fifth floor, where supposedly a "lady" should enter the elevator. Y/N stood still when the doors opened, the hair on her arms stood up and her heart seemed to freeze for a few seconds before speeding up, feeling like her entire body trembled with each beat.

"Matt." Her voice sounded broken and weak. "She... She's right there." Y/N muttered, raising her right arm and pointing out of the elevator. Her gaze seemed to be glazed over.

Matt swallowed hard, tightening his hand around his girlfriend, wanting to make sure she didn't leave his side. He arranged the camera so that the lens was focused outside, although neither he nor the camera were capturing anything.

"She's not coming in. Something seems to be stopping her. But she's so angry." The girl said, her voice full of emotions, looking like she was about to cry.

"Alright, that's enough. Let's go back." Matt interrupted, leaning in and clicking the button to go down, placing himself in front of his girl, with the intention of protecting her or taking her attention away from the figure.

The elevator began to slowly close, the doors appearing to be held by something.

When it finally did, Matt turned to Y/N, lowering the camera momentarily and focusing all of his attention on her.

"Baby, are you with me? Are you back?" The boy asked in a low, soft voice, afraid of scaring her even more. His blue eyes looked into his girlfriend's, hoping to see them come into focus again.

Y/N blinked repeatedly before finally looking at Matt.

"Yes, I-I'm sorry." She asked, her voice coming out weak. She closed her lips in a thin line, trying to hold back the post-adrenaline crying.

"Hey, don't apologize, you didn't do anything wrong. Are you okay, baby? I just need to know this." The brunette was worried, he felt his heart tighten at his girl's features, and if he could, he would pass on everything she saw and felt to himself, just to spare her from all that.

"Now I am. I promise." The girl responded, nodding her head and offering him a small smile.

The sound of the elevator doors opening interrupted them, making Matt turn his back to Y/N and face the boys waiting for them, Colby already with his camera in hand and the lens focusing on the inside of the place.

"Wow, don't tell me you guys were- Wait, is everything okay?" Nick started the joke, believing that they would be kissing due to their position, but stopping in the middle of it when he noticed the expressions on Y/N's face.

"Y/N saw the "lady" who was supposed to enter the elevator on the fifth floor." Matt said, taking his girl's hand and guiding her out of it carefully.

"What?"

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The group was now in room 525, ready to do the Estes Method.

Y/N was sitting on the edge of the bed, next to Matt, and facing the chair where the other two brothers would do the method. She had a soft smile on her face as she saw her boyfriend and brothers spouting barbs, creating a pleasant atmosphere, before Nick and Chris got under.

The girl kept her eyes glued to the duo, refusing to look around her despite hearing whispers. The words that Nick and Chris repeated, she could hear seconds before, sometimes even phrases, but she didn't want to pay attention to the ghosts there. Y/N wanted to know what they wanted them to know, and she would only get it if she heard what Chris and Nick heard.

The words came disconnected and fast. It seemed like the two were in an argument, often even complementing each other's phrases.

"Y/N." Nick spoke suddenly, his nose wrinkling under the red blindfold as if trying to understand where that came from, or hear better what it meant.

Matt quickly brought his right hand to Y/N's left thigh, maintaining direct contact with her as he kept his eyes fixed on Nick, a serious expression on his face.

"Unwelcome here." Chris spoke next.

Colby felt his fingers on the camera shake slightly. He knew well what was happening here, having already been through the same situation with Sam and their psychic friend, Amanda. He looked at Y/N with a worried expression, followed by Sam, who went over and sat on the bed next to the girl.

Matt pressed his fingers over his girlfriend's covered skin, taking a deep breath. He couldn't believe this was really happening.

"Yeah, it seems like the ghosts hate me." Y/N spoke with a nervous smile, letting out a low laugh, trying to calm the tense atmosphere that had settled.

She finally looked up and around the room, easily finding the ghost who had said that.

The "lady" from the elevator was next to Chris, staring at her with the same anger as before, showing her hatred for the girl's presence there. It was obvious that she didn't want Y/N in her hotel, but no one there understood why.

"Out."

"Her."

"Now."

"What the hell?" Y/N exclaimed milliseconds after Chris said the last word, turning around abruptly when she felt something grab her arm and let go seconds later, but curiously, her eyes didn't catch anything.

"Okay, I think that's good for now." Sam said after seeing her reaction, getting up from the bed and touching Nick and Chris, making them take off their headphones and blindfolds.

"Apparently, I'm unwelcome here." Y/N was the first to speak after getting the attention of the other two brothers. "Something just touched me, I swear."

"I just don't understand. Why would they try to attack Y/N? It doesn't make sense." Matt asked, turning to Colby in hopes of him having an answer, as he moved closer to Y/N on the mattress, trying to give her some reassurance.

"I don't know, sometimes spirits just choose one person to terrorize or attach to, and only they know why. Sam went through something similar once." Colby explained, pointing briefly at the blonde, who nodded.

The girl sighed, it's obvious that they would choose her, after all she could see and hear them. She looked around the room again, drowning out the sound of the boys' voices. Her attention was drawn to the bathroom, which had its door opened by Matt earlier.

She felt a presence there. It certainly wasn't evil, and it seemed to be calling for her, as if it needed her to come in there.

"Guys, why don't we try again, but in the bathroom?" Y/N interrupted Nick's sentence - without even knowing what he was saying -, turning to the boys with a firm look.

"Baby, are you sure? I think we're past your limit." Matt asked, uncertainty settling into his gaze as his blue eyes ran over his girlfriend's features, as if searching for any sign of fear there, but finding nothing but firmness.

"I'm sure, I feel like there's something there that needs to talk to us."

Minutes later the six had organized themselves in the small bathroom; Colby was standing in the bathtub while Matt sat on the edge of it, Nick was sitting on the closed toilet and Chris was leaning on the sink, both looking at his brother. Sam was standing in the doorway, still with the camera in hand, while Y/N was sitting on the floor, between Matt's legs and looking up, her eyes focused on her boyfriend's blindfold covered face.

Y/N had her right hand on Matt's thigh, caressing the skin carefully, trying to reduce the boy's anxiety and nervousness, knowing that despite him trying to be thought, he was afraid of what might happen, or if he would even be able to hear anything.

"A very deep breath." Matt spoke for the first time after going under, his voice coming out loud before mimicking the breath he heard.

Y/N frowned, looking around but seeing nothing. Seconds later, she felt goosebumps run down her arm and a wind on her right side, as if something had passed there and settled next to Matt.

"Love." Matt got the first word out.

"Is that why you're here? Because you love the hotel?" Sam asked from behind the camera.

"Couple."

"Are there any couples here with us?" Colby asked, pinching his lips with his fingers as he tried to think of possibilities, but there was no response from the boy.

“Are you referring to Y/N and Matt?” Chris asked suddenly, causing Y/N to look at him quickly, her eyes wide.

"Beautiful."

"Do you think they're both beautiful together?" Nick asked this time, resting his left foot lightly against Y/N's thigh, trying to keep her calm.

"Angry."

"Are you angry because they are a beautiful couple?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Room."

"Wait, that makes sense. There was a woman in the room while Nick and Chris were doing the Estes Method, it was the same lady from the elevator, and she was very angry about something, just like she was when I saw her in the actual elevator." Y/N explained, lifting her head and briefly looking at Colby, who carried a concentrated look. "She was staring at me with hatred, as if I had done the worst thing in the world."

"Angry."

"Wow, that's the fourth time tonight that the same word has been repeated." Colby murmured, his eyes wide.

"Is the woman in the room mad that Matt and I are a couple?" Y/N asked with uncertainty in her voice. She didn't understand why a many years old ghost would be angry at their relationship.

"Envy."

At that moment, Y/N felt a new presence in the bathroom, as if something had left the room and entered there, it being filled with hatred. The girl looked up and saw the same woman, this time closer, looking at her with the same look as before, but for some reason she didn't try to touch Y/N, or she couldn't.

"She's-" Y/N's sentence was cut off by Matt, who repeated words again.

"Touch. Hurt. Y/N." Matt spoke the words without pause, his hands flying to the headphones and quickly taking it off, followed by the blindfold. "No, you can't touch her. She's not yours." Matt growled angrily, standing up and pulling Y/N by her arms, making her stand beside him, before pulling her tightly to his side and wrapping his arm protectively around her shoulder. "You're not allowed to touch any of us, especially her." The boy finished, his blue eyes traveled around the bathroom, as if he was trying to find where the entity was.

"What the fuck dude?" Sam quickly lowered the camera, looking at everyone there in shock.

Chris and Nick took a rigid stance, as if they were ready to help their brother if necessary, despite there being nothing they could do against a ghost.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Nick turned, looking at her with careful eyes, trying to read the girl's expressions.

"Yeah, she didn't actually touch me, but it was intense... I'm just scared. At least she's not here anymore." Y/N sighed, leaning into Matt, who patted her shoulder affectionately.

"That was crazy man. I didn't think the night would turn into this." Colby muttered, stepping out of the tub.

"It's okay, it's over now." Matt whispered in Y/N's ear, embracing her into his arms. She took a deep breath, breathing Matt's scent in, calming her nerves down.

The ghosts really hated her.

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

[chaoticace2005]

The list of regrets I totally have and am not just writing because Charlie is making me, Vagina Vaggie is glaring at me, and I want the free rent:

By Angel Dust, 3 time X-X-X award winner.

(Warning, there is some victim blaming in this. The abuse Angel faces from Val is not his fault, but given that I’m writing this from his perspective I figured it would be something he’d add.)

1. Writing this list

2. Verbally complaining about writing this list cause now Vagina wants to stab me.

3. Only taking half my usual hit before starting today.

4. Complaining about not being high enough.

5. Not hiding my drugs better

6. Not having more stashes of drugs

7. Calling TV superior to radio.

8. Not killing that snake before he had a chance to go to the hotel.

9. Not “trying hard enough” at this shitty hotel.

10. Being too close to roof so the CRAZY BITCH COULD THROW ME OFF OF IT.

11. Walking up the stairs with Pentious only to have to go IMMEDIATELY BACK DOWN.

12. Signing my deal with fucking Valentino. Seriously I’m a fucking idiot.

13. Even suggesting the idea that Charlie should come to the studio. She’s just going to get hurt.

14. Mouthing off to Val.

15. Not getting Charlie out of the hotel sooner

16. Being such a pathetic, dick sucking ho who isn’t good at anything beyond sex.

17. Not being able to take all of this.

18. Not acting well enough cause some this bitchass cat is seeing through me.

19. Ever offering that bitchass cat my services.

20. Pushing Husk’s boundaries

21. Not being my true self.

22. Acting for so long I don’t even really know who my true self is

23. Being a dick to Charlie

24. Being a dick to Husk

25. Being a dick to everyone

26. Putting my dick in a vacuum cleaner.

27. Calling Smiles a creepy dommy daddy.

28. Letting Niffty know about some of my more kinky films. She’s getting ideas���

29. Trying to play poker with Husk (and not even strip poker!)

30. Testing if my venom works on myself (it doesn’t and now I have pink bite marks)

31. Leaving what I used to clean my bites out because somehow Alastor found them and is now TEMPORARILY PARALYZED AND I DONT WANT HIM TO KILL ME WHEN HE CAN MOVE AGAIN.

32. Not answering Val’s texts.

33. Wearing boots. Seriously these things hurt sometimes.

34. Having ugly feet so I can’t NOT wear boots.

35. Tracking mud into the hotel

36. Mentioning sex around the Egg Bois because now I have to explain what it is.

37. Describing sex as something their boss “has never had,” it got back to Pentious and I’m scared.

38. Mentioning “Vox” anywhere in Alastor’s vicinity.

39. Agreeing to play Monopoly with Niffty. In general Monopoly sucks but Niffty likes to get knives involved?!?!

40. Getting addicted to drugs.

41. Getting caught in that alleyway by my BITCHASS brother.

42. Not trying harder for Molly.

43. Not saying goodbye.

44. Fucking overdosing.

45. Doing literally fucking nothing with my life and nothing with my death.

46. Taking the easy was out and doing whatever pops told me to

47. Yelling “FUCK” loudly in church that one time

48. Not teaching these people at the hotel how to FUCKING MAKE SPAGHETTI RIGHT?!

49. Getting high with Cherri.

50. Telling Val to “fuck off”

51. Flirting with that one cannibal guy because now they all seem to want to EAT ME (and not in the sexy way)

52. Leaving those pot brownies out. High cannibals, Egg Boiz, and Nifftys are terrifying.

53. Letting myself be named “Angel” because this makes shit too damn confusing plus I think Niffty wants to KILL ME?!

54. Not spending more time with these losers

55. Not opening myself up to Husk sooner.

56. Being too much of a coward to tell him how I feel.

57. Mentioning Pent has two dicks to Cherri cause she won’t stop asking about it.

58. Not doing enough to save Pentious.

59. Not telling him how much he means to me.

60. Trying to lift way more than I should have. Apparently six arms doesn’t mean I’m super strong.

61. Calling Niss a short motherfucker who nobody likes. I’m sorry, I’ll be better (and call him something even worse next time.)

62. Still being too much of a coward to tell Husk how I feel.

63. Flirting with Husk in Italian when he UNDERSTOOD ME THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME?!

64. Getting a room on the same side of the building as Alastor’s because he keeps laughing at 3 in the morning???

65. Kissing Husk in public. Val is mad.

66. Trying to even have a boyfriend with Val around. It’s stupid.

67. Calling yourself stupid for wanting to have a boyfriend.

68. Giving my boyfriend access to this list.

69. No regrets. Only 69. :D (Jesus Christ you’re a child.)

[thelonelyme]

♡ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴅᴏʀᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs/sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏ] 2♡

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𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞: ディズニー ツイステッドワンダーランド[Twisted Wonderland]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐨/𝐢: Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: The yanderes finds out mc is now a fallen angel due to them.

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Hello honey, this is my first time asking you but please listen to me.. What do you think the reaction of the yandere house leader's reaction to their lover who is an angel has now fallen and become a demon's. especially the reason why they become a fallen angel is because they want to continue to be with the leaders of the dormitory even though their God forbids them, and to the point of plucking out their wings. Pretty pleaseee 🥺🥺

𝐀𝐕𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐄: GN READER. That's the second part of this post, so if you want to read about the whole dorm crew, make sure that you've read that. There will be explicit scenes of poisoning, blasphemy, allusions to rape, implied murder, delusional behavior, mention of not-voluntary imprisonment, allusions to NS/FW themes, kidnapping, explicit stalking, cyberstalking, mention of blackmail, mention of torture, mention of imprisonment. Sorry everyone for the prolonged time of inactivity, I did not feel good, and moreover I had for a period lost the motivation to do anything, so sorry again. I’ll try to bring my life back to order, so update more often. I hope you like it, honey💗. I don’t have the responsibility of who reads such my works, however good reading <;3.

-𝐊𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐦 𝐀𝐥-𝐀𝐬𝐢𝐦-

For such a solar and enthusiastic magician as Kalim, your arrival at Night Raven College could not have been described in other words other than a literal blessing from God. The young student and dormitory chief of Scarabia had always been considered the exception to the college rule: in contrast to violent and petty behavior like those of Savanaclaw, or like those shy and manipulative as apparently almost all the students of Ignihyde, possessed a natural kindness and genuine concern for others; something that many times had made him get into some trouble.

He seemed like the perfect candidate for the famous college in the south of the island, with a young and fresh look like his and with a behavior worthy of the best prince straight out of a fairy tale, Many students in his dorm couldn’t and still haven’t been able to understand, how he ended up in a place famous for cruelty and for the rigor in training his students in the best possible way.

But Kalim could not have cared less, after all education is education, no matter whether in one apparently better school or another, and not understanding the reason for such a tense rivalry between the two schools.

So, during the upcoming Christmas holidays, he never expected to find himself in front of a literal angel. The first time he saw you, he would immediately be enchanted by your figure accompanied by two boys in the hallway. At that moment, he could literally drop all the books he had in his hand that Jamil was asking for and immediately run in your direction, as if he were a magnet and you were the magnet of his heart.

As in the fairy tales that by now Jamil had been forced to mark in his memory how many times he had to repeat them to the silver-haired and scarlet-eyed magician, that feeling of complete stiffness and a warm feeling in the heart that made him warm up in ways that no one had ever managed to do, the acceleration of his beat in a few seconds from your sight and a priminente redness on his cheeks- he was certain that he’d just seen his one true soul mate.

He had waited years and years to find the person who would be by his side all his life, and you finally showed yourself to him! Just as his parents had always told him, as he had always dreamed from an early age! You can’t blame her excitement and all her heat the moment you felt a pair of calloused hands on your shoulders.

"I’m touching them! And I can feel how soft their skin is even from over this uniform! I swear, I’m going to die of joy!"

He hoped that his heart would not keep beating so hard all the time, otherwise you would surely be frightened, and he did not want to cause you any kind of pain.

He was sure, and the brilliant and kind smile you gave him was only helpful in confirming it: You were certainly his soul mate.

From that day on, things would change dramatically: now all his attentions and his whole routine revolved around you, with his one and only Habibi ¹.

He could not help it, by now your presence was simply essential for him to function normally; basically for him you were like oxygen for a drowned, fresh water for a thirsty in the desert, abundant food to a hungry, you were a drug. Just being yourself with him had somehow made him feel like the only person with whom, according to him, you would share all those hugs and words of encouragement late at night on the large balcony of the castle in Scarabia.

Your magnificent and splendid body would only be the icing on the cake, for him you would have been perfect in any way you could have been. What brought him even closer to you had been your magnificent personality, so kind and comforting, so good and perfect from any kind of external or internal point of view.

He could not live without him with you, he had developed an addiction to your sweet caresses and your words so reassuring that they never failed to make him burst into tears for the ardent and genuine love that simple words positioned in the right way contained.

He could not help but imagine you together with your future children, biological or adopted, playing with them while gently stroking your head and watching with dreamy eyes your beautiful features. You would have both worn dresses worthy of a fabulous and fantasic person like yourself, traditional clothes of the Land of Hot Sands, dancing together dances in the center of the huge ballroom of the family villa during your future wedding. He already had in mind the perfect wedding for both you and him, even though he couldn’t bear less than what the main colors or how the flowers should have been arranged until he was with you. But he would do it with immense pleasure and joy knowing that everything would be for you and only for you.

He had already written tons of letters over the past months to his parents where he described your love for each other in the most disparate and romantic ways, even to the point of convincing and constantly writing them that soon you two would really get married, which the two were extremely happy about, and get them to send as many letters to convince Kalim to bring them home during the summer holidays.

For the next few months, Kalim was literally clinging to you, or continuing to praise you incessantly during every single moment of the day where unfortunately he could not be with you, and forcing the strict and diligent Vice Dorm Leader Jamil to endure hours and hours at night of awkward words and thoughts from the red-eyed boy, and ordering the latter to reassure him on his growing concerns. His need for you had become morbid, leading him to increasingly monopolize your blessed time along with him and Jamil, who obviously would have taken advantage of it in the best possible ways.

"Jamil, tell me they’ll never leave me."

"Jamil, they always say they’re happy to have lunch with me, but then why do they have lunch with others?"

"Jamil, do you think I should send them more presents? Maybe this way they’ll realize I’ll never get tired of them."

"Jamil, which chains do you think are better, the silver ones or the gold ones? I sincerely prefer the gold ones, but please choose! You always do a great job at these things, and as you know, I’m not very good at making decisions, hehe."

Unlike the imaginary world that Kalim had built in his mind, his ebony-haired servant would instead have seen beyond those walls with which the blood-red-eyed boy had long since begun to dodge all kinds of normal reasoning. He had seen all that time your face slightly frightened and surprised by the huge amount of gifts that Kalim had daily sent from home just for you, he didn’t lose how your presence had become a fixed point in his day. About how now he should not only look after the needs of the white-haired boy, but now also your own under the orders of his master.

"Remember Jamil, every wish of my Habibi must be fulfilled immediately, okay?"

And of course he always did, noting in the meantime how your simple word could change any previous opinion of Kalim.

"I think that’s a kind of fruit a little bitter, I didn’t remember it so-What? You don’t like it so much? True, not even me, actually."

Surely he would have noticed this, causing him to cling more and more to you, telling him that he had to spend all his time with you and instead leaving the duties of dorm head to him, something the silver-haired boy was extremely willing to do: all for her beloved and adored Habibi.

The ebony-haired servant would remain silent, as he had always done since his childhood, continuing to pull the strings of this little theatre so that he would finally have a real place in society; he did not care at all about your ever-increasing looks at him, or how he would always try to get the sticky kid to go away, but this would just reset everything he had done and built in the last few months in the dorm, reborn under a new regulation and under a new rigor rediscovered.

If he stopped you meeting with Kalim, everything would be erased, so you could definitely suffer a little longer before you left.

But Kalim wasn’t a complete fool, and he knew it.

He knew and saw the way he was subtly threatening you by threatening to spread disgusting rumors about you, about you not being such a pure, chaste angel, about all sorts of things that would bring you down at the slightest exit without him. He knew what power was, and he wasn’t below using it to hold you to him, not after what happened with Jamil before.

If you had refused or even hinted at a possible breakup of your relationship, the first reaction it could have had is to immediately throw yourself at your feet, tightly grabbing the fabric of your school uniform and crying, begging in sobs and wondering if it was his mistake, he swears he’ll make it up to you!

And if I kept trying to avoid him gently, since you’re such a nice person that you didn’t immediately kick him out of your life, it would have to come down to the ways he absolutely didn’t like to use. Usually his conflicts were not even resolved by himself, but this was neither a conflict nor a problem- don’t misunderstand, he still thinks that there were problems in the relationship because of your ever-increasing thoughts of wanting to leave, but he thinks there are problems for a completely wrong reason, which he swears on his own life and on those of his whole family never to repeat again.

He would never want to get to do this- after all he wants the person he will marry in the future to have a good reputation and be loved by everyone- so this move will be used as a last resort in case of failure of any previous attempt to make you stay with him.

He knew that Jamil was not one of the most sociable and transparent people you could ever meet, but he knew that he would never do something as petty as hypnotizing him again- and he was sure! He could remember every single moment of his days, unllike of when he had whole lapses of memory scattered throughout the days. And then he was helping him with his relationship, so he was certain that he could trust his and your life in his skilled hands.

And it hasn’t been that long since you last saw the bright sunlight, at least not in person.

He knew that every beautiful dove must fly, so he compensated for the time you normally spent in the luxurious rooms of his castle in the Land of Warm Sands riding with you on his magic carpet. But not before you have sealed your wings with a beautiful padlock and gold chains: after all, white and gold were such beautiful colors together. After all, as kindness had put Kalim in some trouble, and in a world like the human one, yours has put you in far worse trouble than you could have ever imagined.

You were enchanted by the mesmerizing eyes of the beautiful snake that, slowly and patiently, while you remained staring at the blinding vermilion, wrapped like a powerful and heavy gold chain tightly to your body. Making you immobilized by your own mistake, and remaining forever enchanted by the red gems that the young man possessed, those same irises that had been your end.

-𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭-

Vil Schoenheit, head of the dormitory of the ancient Pomefiore, a very famous actor with an unnatural beauty and rigor, would never have thought he could fall so low for a simple person. The blond-haired perfectionist so focused and so devoted to achieving the perfection of himself and everyone in whom he could see potential, could not help but describe you as the exact opposite of what he would have considered his perfect soulmate: although you too could also have had a strong potential like that first year Epel, but, from what he’s always seen, you haven’t even tried to achieve the best version of yourself.

Like the scarlet-haired dorm boss or the smart silver-haired octomerman, he wouldn’t even have time to even know what you look like.

At least, before he heard about you.

With his increasingly emerging figure in entertainment and fashion, with his excellent school career to keep such, his relentless search for beauty and the burning desire for revenge on that useless being who had always stolen all the spotlight, he had a very narrow daily schedule. And the fact that he had to manage a dormitory full of people who still had to see that beauty and charisma were an immense and unique source of power, did not help at all the coverage of his imminent dark circles.

At first, and as I said before, he wouldn’t even want to know who you were. But the quick tongues of all these dirty hicks he had to endure in school, would let slip away in the luxurious dormitory room that in his school there was a particular little student who had the reputation of being the most beautiful in the entire realm of Twisted Wonderland.

Even more than Neige.

It wasn’t enough just that stupid idiot with a rosy face to put a spoke in the wheel, now there was also a third person against whom he had to win?!

He couldn't believe it.

He did not want to believe that a simple person like you could be considered by all even more beautiful than him and that idiot without even making an effort, while he had to work hard to get to the point where he was now.

He was jealous, he just wanted to be the one adored by everyone for once: not Neige, not you, just him.

He knew what it felt like to be one of the most beautiful of all, but he didn’t want to stop there. No, he wanted to be the one and only to hold the power of eternal beauty, he wanted to ruin your smiley faces to death so that you two couldn’t even get outside without you being labeled as deformed monsters, he wanted to destroy your lives, he wanted to eliminate you two.

But Vil was not such a reckless and incautious man, he already had a plan in mind, and now he just needed to add a few more details thanks to your arrival. He would have called his trusty hunter, and he, being a good subject as he was, had immediately satisfied the bizarre requests of the poisonus man.

A little setback, this was you in his eyes. Like everyone he had to compete with to get to the top, he just had to make sure that you didn’t get a chance to be better than him.

But your presence irritated him so much, he hated so much how your eyes didn’t even have a hint of make-up but that they still turned out to be absolutely delicious for the blond-haired man as he continually struggled against the increasingly strong feelings of desirability he was developing towards you, he hated how he would always have to pay attention to his strict diet to stay online while you would try every cake that Trey would cook for any unnecessary parties in his dorm.

He hated how he could not stop watching you as you posed as the hardworking and always available person you were, thus bringing to your side a herd of rednecks and useless potatoes that were shamelessly hovering over you, using flimsy and shabby excuses just to get a speck of your attention, and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth as he turned abruptly and forced himself not to curse everyone with his Unique Magic.

And while the handsome man was slowly falling into the abyss of madness, his trusty Rook would notice every single look of Vil directed at you, a look of such primitive hunger and such magnificent and pure hatred, a poison so limpid and deadly that it made to praise even more this new love of his.

But unfortunately such a scruffy and tacky frown did nothing but ruin the beautiful features of the poisonous beauty, the expressions of anger that did not belong to him did nothing but position themselves on his immaculate face as soon as he saw the dirty hands of a student of Savanaclaw on your shoulders as he hugged you, while that disgusting being was clearly looking for more from you.

"Oh, that student, la beauté de cette école, quelqu'un qui possède une beauté d'un autre monde ² , but not so much to compete with our wonderful head of the dormitory in appearance" And throwing a mocking and nonchalant grin at the other man. That made the handsome man frown even more for the casual tone of the hunter in talking about you so freely.

"Yeah, whatever but when- Umh, I apologize Schoenheit-senpai, but when can I train for Magishift tryo-?"

"Rook, I need your services one more time."

"Oui."

"And Epel, keep practicing your etiquette, your manners and the way you speak are barbaric. Don't forget what I've told you."

And suddenly, all those nights spent studying for the various tests that until then had not weighed on your physical health, had done nothing but drain you of all your energy, making you feel completely grounded. You wouldn't be able to understand why these sudden changes, until that moment your routine had never given you any kind of problems, but Ace would have just swept it all away by saying that most likely it was you who were just stressed out and that finally all that workload was hitting you all at once.

And you, being such a responsible student, despite all the warnings of Jack and Epel to rest, would have continued to help Riddle with all the preparations of the VDC instead. You couldn’t help helping all those people who didn’t ask, but clearly needed help. Something that the man with lilac irises had noticed from the beginning.

And how can he not exploit to his advantage a situation so useful to his cause?

And working with the Heartslabyul's leader, he would subtly observe you several times under the guise of having to control the stage setup process for NRC’s biggest event himself.

Normally he would have hated all those people who would only take advantage of the opportunities on the fly, and in fact he still did, but he could not call this "opportunism", but a small incentive to help himself in his life. And by the way, it wasn’t like he’d never worked hard for the duration of his stressful life until- like everyone else except him had- so he was sure that instead of hurting you, he was just helping himself.

Clearly the effects of the presumed fatigue were making themselves felt and seen: the skin once so bright and seemingly shiny would instead become sicker and battered, your face harbored light dark circles and your body began to feel much weaker and exposed to any kind of bump; you felt sick, as if you had ingested something that made you feel extremely bad, as if someone was sucking your energy away. And these symptoms would go on for so long that not even your friends would let you walk alone for fear that you might stumble and hurt yourself. And the effects would, at some point, even cause the first of a series of fainting in front of the blond himself.

He almost felt sorry for seeing you so weak and hurt, but he couldn’t help but feel a sadistic pleasure in your pitiful sight. A student so perfect in all respects, so good, kind and charitable, so good to his classmates and so understanding, reduced to nothing but a weak body kept alive for an unknown reason. He chose you to be the guinea pig for his famous poisons.

After all, there was a reason his trusty hunter always called him by that nickname.

"My beloved Roi du Poison, you truly are the most beautiful and poisonous man that the entire Twisted Wonderland has ever seen!"

He liked that nickname in a way, as he also loved his talent and knowledge in potionology. He had tried to recreate to the letter the infamous "poison kiss", created and perfected no less than the so esteemed Evil Queen. But alas, some ingredients could not be collected and obtained at the time of need, so he had to improvise by mixing several ingredients, making it all turn out to be a deadly potion.

Or at least he thought.

It was rather peculiar that a poison created to kill had not yet borne fruit, causing him to rage silently as it rechecked every single process of the potion that had kindly handed you nothing less than your beloved best friend. Of course, at the beginning even the first year was strange and annoyed by the strange request to give you a basket full of red apples,

"Why do I even need to do this- that's so useless. Why me and not Hunt, he would've loved to do this for him. By the way, the ones of my family would be definitely better, the colour is too much bright, surely they're all too much soft and ew..", he thought many times during the day, but he had not asked questions to the handsome man.

Vil couldn’t help but start ordering Hunt to write down every kind of reaction you were going through, every kind of change, even if it was insignificant. But more importantly, to tell him everything that was slightly out of the ordinary that you did or said. It wasn't possible to resist that much to a deadly potion.

He couldn’t understand the way that even though you didn’t know that he was the cause of your ever-worsening ailments, you would continue to understand when to leave him alone and help him with his problems, try to understand his thoughts and continuing insistently to approach him, both emotionally and physically. He did not understand you.

How could you ever approach and help your executioner? He did not understand.

And, as always, Rook never failed to satisfy him, bringing him what he had asked for and more.

And then he finally had an answer that appealed to all of his questions that had been running through his mind until that moment. No one, not even that idiot in the other school, could have such sweet and supportive behavior as yours, despite the fact that you were literally falling apart because of the envy of another.

No one would have survived for so long a poison that would have assured death. You can't simply die. What kind of angel would ever get killed by a simple human? Lose your body for what?

"Apparently I do, Vil."

An even tougher challenge than training Epel? After all, he couldn’t call himself a dorm-leader if he couldn’t even get you turned into clay in his soft, soft hands, he wouldn’t have been him if he hadn’t finally helped you see that he was the key to your salvation.

Only he had the solution, only he could really help you in all that discomfort that you had. All alone, betrayed from what you thought your best friend. Left behind by all those who you thought were friends. Betrayed by your own god. You were only deceiving yourself.

After all, you should have known that man was made in their image.

He would continue to be convinced that he was only attracted to your potential beauty, even though he knew it was just a pathetic excuse to avoid hurting his ego by forcing you into his luxurious, comfortable bed, observing that day by day the potion had not had the desired effects, but that it was still powerful enough not to allow your body to regenerate normally, and consequently letting him do whatever he wants with your fragile and now mortal body. He could finally keep you in a crystal coffin where only he could see you, in a place that only he had permission to access, a place dedicated entirely to your wonderful being, a being that divided his reason from his instincts.

Thus leading him to force you to live a different kind of hell, one where Vil was constantly torn between loving you obsessively until his death, spoiling you with every kind of luxury and every kind of wealth you could ever desire, treat you as a true queen, not as a mere ordinary angel as you had been treated up to that moment, while the other side of you was divided by hatred of the one who had made him wither like a dead rose, making him constantly and incessantly think about your beautiful face once so soft and so shiny, and letting him finally realize what he really wanted from you.

You got too taken in by the juicy red color of the apple in the hand of the beautiful evil, and this time, laying down, you would finally have a bite of the queen’s venomous grip.

-𝐈𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝-

It is not a novelty that the blue-haired boy was an extremely shy and elusive person with self-isolative tendencies, who spent all his average days in a messy and gloomy room, and he never would have come out willingly if his little brother didn’t pull so much weight on this subject.

Idia Shroud, the descendant of the great God of the Underworld, a figure to follow and an inspiration to some, and terror and disgrace to others, had never aspired to a career as brilliant as his fellow dormitory chief, he simply did not feel the morbid need to be noticed and to receive so much attention from people, and even less, he did not feel the need to get even just in touch with a person outside his virtual bubble.

He absolutely did not see the advantages of having physical or "normal" relationships, and if there were, he was quite sure that the advantages were much less than the disadvantages he would suffer. By now he had resigned himself to being what he was and what each time he saw faintly on the screens: a useless rejection of society.

Someone who did not even have the courage to speak, even just to see, a real person in flesh and bones- someone who was just one face among a thousand in many forums he assiduously attended- almost maniacally- someone who could never carry on the surname of the noble Shroud family, hoping that the responsibility instead would go on to his younger brother that was definitely better suited to the task than someone who could not even leave his room without feeling weak and without energy.

"I already told you for the millionth time Ortho, I don’t want to go out at all, not even Hades himself could change my mind."

And when the news of the student without magic who had become prefect on the same day of their admission first arrived at Ignihyde’s dormitory, the handsome blue-haired male could not have cared less. He didn’t have a shred of curiosity about you, leading him to ignore his younger brother’s futile attempts to socialize with someone other than him. He was starting to worry about his older brother’s tendencies, and those concerns would come close to the limit of tolerable when he mistakenly read for once what he shared on those forums he was obsessed with.

And he knew that Idia meant every word he wrote, every word imbued with hatred of the world that was not good enough to accept him and to allow someone like him not to be targeted for his own interests.

Even if he had never been bullied, even if no one would have dared to touch a hair of him for fear that he might in return burn his finger with his flames. Ortho had been with Idia centuries and centuries before, and even there, his big brother had always had a tendency to hate being together with others, always isolating himself in his room in the family castle. But he thought he couldn’t abdicate beyond that. He knew that his brother had always suffered from extreme social anxiety, probably the cause of his problems, along with other disorders that interfered in establishing normal healthy relationships with real people.

Idia, on the other hand, saw no problem in his current life. He lived alone, in a room he didn’t need to leave, eating whatever food he wanted and being able to stay online for as long as he wanted. Maybe this was the only thing in his mind that he had control over, or maybe he had become so addicted to it that just walking out of the room would blind him for a moment.

But the fact is that he would never deign to see you, he did not need to see the annoying faces of his classmates, let alone the popular ones.

He would never meet them again, so it was useless for him to even try to make friends with someone who will inevitably forget you.

He thought it was pathetic.

He had no time for normal people, but instead he had too much time to spend on forums and games, always changing his interests and topics. And it would be right in those places that he would almost certainly meet you, named under a nice nickname that would spur him to talk to you. The male’s room was messy, smelly and completely in the dark except for the dim light of the blue screens, where Idia spent his time playing different games, talking occasionally and bitterly commenting on the stupid and senseless moves of his teammates. But he could not even finish the round before finding himself quickly reading the public chat, and then stopping to read the whole message.

The_Pref.ectme: "Hi, sorry if I’m sudden, but I don’t know this game well, and I need help. Sorry to disturb."

Obviously, a newbie like you wasn’t educated at all and didn’t even have a thousandth of his experience in that game, so he would have decided to mentor you for an evening, by writing quickly in the chat that he would call you on another platform and that there he would explain everything to you.

And when he first heard your voice, he could feel himself floating in the Olympus.

Your voice sounded so harmonious and so calm to his ears, so beautiful and so pure, as if a nymph was whispering softly in his ears, lulling him into a state of apparent trance, it almost melted his brain as calming as it could be.

He had never felt this way throughout his long life of isolation and loneliness, leading him to pant heavily at the first sign of another person even minimally attractive.

A sticky layer of sweat was all over his face, and the prominent redness on his face as you spoke and expressed your thoughts to him about how you found the game difficult, would have made him immediately change the microphone and abruptly interrupt the call and exhale a trembling sigh, almost trembling for the experience he had just had and making him take long and deep breaths to avoid melting the plastic of his chair with the warm flames of his hair.

In the meantime, and while the blue-haired man was biting his hand trying to suppress all kinds of noise and not alarm his younger brother, you would've continued to speak and speak, never imagining that he would've ended the call so abruptly.

A continuous and sudden knock on the dorm door would wake you from your worries about the the game, and welcoming kindly and as always a significantly tired Ace who had been kicked out by Riddle again for breaking another rule. And since Grim was soundly asleep in the main room, you would tell your bizarre adventure with this guy online.

"I don’t know, maybe he was a 50-year-old creep who just wanted to see you naked."

"I don’t think so, at first I could also hear a glimpse of his voice, and he looked like a boy!"

"Wait wait wait- a glimpse? Of his voice? Man, that's creepy as hell! And you.. spoke non stop?"

"Uh yes. But I don't think he's-"

"Nah, hell nah, If you ask me, I'd be creeped out. And didn't you think that he was... Being a pervert? Or something weirder? Maybe recording you! Oh seven, don't tell me it was a video call-"

"Ace, come on, be faithful."

"You have to be more careful on the Internet! I could never allow anything to happen to you, let alone Deuce."

"Don’t worry about me, Ace."

"And don’t so that again, okay?"

And for you it would have ended there, eventually deciding to sleep on it under the advice of one of your best friends.

But the same was not for Idia. At all. He’d spent the whole night imagining your mouth opening and closing only to produce those little words about useless things, the movements of your tongue so sensually moving to the palate, the vocal cords moving in the throat- and oh, that throat...

He kept thinking back to that exact moment when your words had entered his head for the first time, unable to do anything but begin to fantasize about how you might actually appear in real life and not covered and disguised by a beautiful avatar.

He wondered if you were tall or short, if you had short or long hair, what color it could be, and how you could be. He knew you’d never want someone so stupid like other idiotic people around you, but then again, he was just a dirty virgin who hadn’t showered in over two weeks doing nothing but sit in his room full of paper towels and energy drinks. He was a disgusting incel ³ that couldn’t even hope to have a beautiful person, like he knew you were, by his side.

This new fixation would have led him to look for every single clue to understand what your identity was, initially looking for any useful information about your game profile that you both were playing before, and then starting the actual process to see who you really were.

After all, what kind of student at Ignihyde would not know how to hack an account, especially one of such a naive person about the dangers of the internet? All those years spent studying programming would come in handy, which he had no doubt about.

He knew that in the end everything he had studied on his own would always come in handy: whether to ask someone for private information, or ruin another’s life, with a simple click and the right words, he could simply make another’s life a hell.

And after a short time, he had complete access to your computer, which had oddly not installed an antivirus or something to protect your device- it would've been a somewhat longer process, but in the end, he knew he would always succeed: the only thing he felt he could boast of was his almost infinite knowledge of technology, giving him the ego boost he needed to continue everything he was working on.

He had access to your search history, your daily logs, your downloads, your works, passwords, socials- and most importantly, your webcam and microphone.

Finally, finally finally finally finally finally finally- Finally!

He could finally know the face of the voice that accompanied him through his nights and days.

And when he saw you.. it was as if all the emotions he’d spent days stabilizing had suddenly returned.

His dead heart was pounding, as if he had a sudden attack of tachycardia, he felt himself suffocating with his own saliva, forgetting even for a few seconds how to swallow, and consequently dropping some saliva on his sweatshirt, the blush had returned, making him feel hot and scorching under the heat of his sweatshirt- and although normally his dorm was extremely cold, he continued to sweat profusely, his thin fingers were rigidly welded on the mouse, By clicking and zooming on every part of his body that was visible to him, his hair now threatening to melt his headphones.

"Oh- my- my- sev- en… oh- h-hah.."

The news of Idia’s interest in the prefect had been a shock to his younger brother, but also a huge relief. He finally met someone who wasn’t him! And he also fell in love! Years before, this huge change in the life of his niisan would have been nothing more than a mere image in his brain: a fantasy, an illusion, peraphs.

At a certain point he had even given up trying to reason with the man, and therefore he had lowered a bit the tentative to convince him to leave the dormitory. At least he could go out during night time, just something to make him go away from that smelly and disgusting room.

"NO-! I mean- what if someone wasn’t asleep and instead began filming me?! I- I don’t know! You understand!? What if someone even noticed my hair? NO."

So when you would hit not only the near-impossible interest of Idia, he believed it was fate. And that’s what Idia thought. It was repeated that your meeting had been planned in advance by the Fate, an omnipotent existence that ruled at will both human and gods.

No one could escape the Fate.

Not even the beautiful little angel you were.

He thanked the fact of having known you online and not in real life- also because there would be only one chance in a million that would have met you just when it was released for the first time in the last five or six months. But now all he could do was keep watching your every move from the camera that conveniently could spot you every time you walked in, making him find out as many things about you.

"Ah~ my little and tempting angel! I bet you would have liked to have such a devoted follower like me."

As the months went by, the adorable little Ortho would become a huge friend of yours, which his personality allowed him to do, starting with a casual conversation over lunch in the cafeteria, with the excuse of having to look for a volunteer to test a new machine, which, despite much concern expressed by none other than by your friends who were currently sitting at your same table, you had naturally and immediately agreed to do.Helping was your main mission, your only mission, and so helping a little boy like Ortho was enough on its own to fill your pure heart with joy, coming shortly afterwards into the gloomy dormitorium.

His brother lacked that ability to be with others, so Ortho would be the voice and body of Idia outside his room, and not wanting his nii-san to lose all happiness, that one glimmer and glimmer of a possible better future that you were carrying- He didn’t want to be the cause of his suffering.

Idia could not help but compare himself to the lonely and gloomy Hades, who for centuries remained because of an extremely favoritist society that had forced him to be what he had become. In the past he could only compare you to the wonderful Persephone. Now he understood his ancestor. Or maybe it was a family thing.

But in the end, his brother, a boy so kind that you would never be able to resist his constant prayers that you should visit him at least once in his dorm, always spent a lot of time alone, and all he wanted was to spend a little more time with his new best friend! Did you really want to leave him all alone in a place so isolated and full of people just as isolated? No? Perfect! Just follow him to Big Brother’s room and you can all have a big pijama party! Actually, do you want some pomegranate? They are produced by his family, so you can also binge on them!

And that tiny little grain.

A grain had been your sentence.

A mere grain of pomegranate would have been the invisible chains that would have kept you in the room of Idia, you should have remembered the immense jealousy and possessiveness of the god of the dead, you should have known of his obsession with his beloved little angel.

The light morbidly attracts the darkness.

And now you were bound to him forever like his Persephone. Until the end of time, governing together, one beside the other, in a world of death and silence, where a land of sinful and decrepit souls will be forced to obey you two without asking questions, and not letting you fly away in the world of humans.

Even for the god of the underworld this method had worked, so why shouldn’t it have been the same for him?

There was a very small chance that everything he did might end badly, but Idia didn’t care. He could have been discovered by the inhabitants of the island or by other students, but in the end he knew that you could never leave him in any way, and he enjoyed this. Even if he had disappeared, the bond between you would have remained unbreakable.

Don't you know how many times Persephone has tried to escape from that gloomy, old-fashioned prison? She even tried to kill herself.

But how can you die when you’re already in a dead world, and what’s more dead then a dead spirit like yours?

And you too, as she did, would have surrendered to the inevitable fate that had been forged only for the two of you. You would have been chained to a world where the dead speak, and where the living die, and where the red juice of the pomegranate would have continually stained the floors with crimson, dripping from your wounds and your mouth, sealing you forever with the fire of the underworld to him.

You were deceived by a soul, and soon you would have to pay a heavy toll. A soul for your freedom, throwing you into a whirlpool of familiar whispers and shadows, drowning in death with Idia.

-𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚-

Malleus Draconia, an extremely powerful wizard with powers still unknown to most students, an honorable student with excellent scholastic returns, a powerful young man who was destined for the throne , a boy who conveyed immediate anxiety to anyone who was in the same room with him, thus leading many people to associate his presence with something to avoid, a gloomy fae that for all those who saw it was a complete enigma, seemingly no solution, an extremely well-known individual, but who, fortunately or not, did not show around so often. And the students were grateful for that, they were constantly chatting and talking so much that they even forgot his presence in the school, some always avoiding to speak of him as if even his name was a taboo and others trying to neglect the whole by pretending it did not even exist. After all, those who mind their own business live for 100 years.

And for Malleus this was and will always be just ridiculous.

Why the hell would he even want to touch someone, let alone attack a student clairvoyant much weaker than him? He did not understand how those humans had come to conceptualize such a ridiculous and useless idea as those "beliefs" that had spread in the school since his arrival, he would never stoop to hurt anyone, and this made him more and more nervous, the rumors about him, as ninety percent of the students who met him ran away immediately with the queues between their legs.

"What a cowardly behavior. Truly miserable."

He resented the way his appearances did not reflect, as he thought, his real behavior, but he loved that respect that only he, only Malleus Draconia could have from all those who knew him directly or who had heard only false stories and stories about him, After all, he loved to see how the majority of the student body didn’t even look at him in his emerald eyes, for fear of what he could do to them.

But they wouldn’t have to worry, he repeated, he wouldn’t have done anything, even if he recognized that those fictionalized and false rumors had reality funds; he knew what he was capable of, and he was extremely proud of it, he knew a lot, too much, well the dragon that lay dormant within him, a beast that no one until that moment had managed to wonder except himself, and one that no one had ever awakened. Being close to a volcano is always safe, until it erupts, at least.

But again, these nocturnal behaviors around him only annoyed him more and more, he knew exactly what his classmates were doing.

Had he really been alone so long that now no one remembered? But it would not have been possible, he always heard the occasional whispers from the students of other dormitories, and moreover, he was the head of one of them, therefore, he had happily excluded this option, instead leaving him to bitterly process the other hypothesis.

Are they doing this on purpose? Whatever it is, it makes his blood boil with rage, but being stubborn as it was, it would have denied him immediately and fiercely, leading him to think that they were not necessarily avoiding him, but that they were just extremely forgetful. He was defending all of them by every means possible, and the least they could do to prevent half the castle from being suddenly struck by random lightning was at least to recognize his presence in the rooms.

"Shut up Zigvolt. I’m perfectly fine. Now, don't bother me. Ah, no, wait, take note of the fact that I’m gonna love it for a while, so you don’t have to wake up half the dorm screaming like you always do."

Obviously he had heard about you, the infamous and so much on everyone’s lips, even the silent and mysterious dorm mates, a spirit so free and so well-liked by everyone, so much so that he always had someone who would like to be with you. And Malleus at first couldn’t help but be slightly amused by all your "adventures" that every day you carried out with those other freshmen, including the controlling Sebek, who, in your presence did not scream in the slightest, and who was extremely delicate, giving the impression that if he had used even a pinch of his fae magic on you, you would have broken instantly like porcelain.

But would you break if you were in his presence?

He noticed that every single student always had an aura of calm and well-being after being with you, walking or just talking quickly with you. He wondered if he could finally feel himself, like the others, at peace with everyone and in particular with himself, if he could confess to you all kinds of dark thoughts he had always had, and if you would eventually forgive him.

To him you were like an unknown but fascinating presence at the same time, how you could induce so many men to follow you without them making moves on you, and without even needing some spells for it, How each time you seemed to bring a new air into the rooms every time you walked into one, how you could possess a talent for attracting all to yourself, things that, unfortunately, he could not do.

You were the opposite of him, so simple but at the same time so complicated to have close despite your charitable nature, and until then he would have considered you only a "funny" human completely exposed to all kinds of danger and so seemingly and certainly unaware of every evil that the world could reserve for everyone.

And everything would have been in a stalemate for him if I hadn’t had so much mercy on him.

"Hi, I wanted to ask you, since my friends and I were having a little party in my dorm, would you like to join us, I would really like to have you with us."

Everything seemed to be temporarily immobilized the moment you asked that question. Almost every person who had the luck or misfortune to have passed in that instant whispered how you had just signed your death sentence, while some even prepared to fight in the event Malleus could hurt you at any moment, and others still staring without moving a muscle.

As for him, he had regained no control over his body, as if his soul had temporarily left the material and bodily counterpart while he had no strength to move even a single muscle, while his face would not show even the slightest hint of emotion on his clear and defined features, making him look like an imposing and impressive statue for others.

But to you, it was not terrifying at all, which is why you continued to keep a sweet smile on your soft features and patiently waiting for a response from the fae, you had vaguely guessed from the very sight that he, like many others who had helped you throughout your life, had unfortunately always been misunderstood and put aside, you knew he was not the type to hurt someone casually, something for which your friends kept comparing you to a nurse always ready to help any soul that needed, but that he also continued to convince them not to do anything rash with him, and what you reproached them gently. You had managed to see the real Malleus Draconia, that child deprived of the necessary love and always estranged from everyone.

Suddenly, with a sharp nod of his head, he took leave just as quickly, leading you to snigger and admire the lukewarm sparks that remained of him.

"What a brave human."

This show of affection towards him, in his eyes, would have left him breathless and extremely confused, he simply cannot understand what was the spark that would have provoked his curiosity, He didn’t understand why a human like you had the guts to talk to him, let alone invite him to a party. But don’t misunderstand it, amidst that blanket of sudden emotions, an immense euphoria and joy would predominate such inner chaos. Finally someone invited him! Someone didn’t consider him a monster! He had finally met someone he had seen through his scales, he would finally have a friend for the first time, and he was elated by it.

From this point of no return, Malleus would wander much more often into the places you were accustomed to attend more often, and with every mention of your name or your sight, a light, hard-to-see smile would appear on his mouth, a smile that made him more charming but at the same time something he was not used to, always seeing himself and being seen with a perennial neutral and sometimes sad expression.

By the way, he would eventually become more concerned for your safety, still believing that you were a being created from porcelain, and that it could be broken even by a breath. He would begin to watch over your figure incessantly, not even letting his supposed trusted knights have the task of watching over you: Sebek was an extremely racist half-fae towards any kind of creature other than his own- and what for which Malleus mocked him silently, finding funny how he hated and did not want to see the half of himself- and even if he was duìiventato your friend and said to be changed for the better thanks to you, he didn’t believe that once at your window at night he could control himself. Most of all he knew that controlling his fae instincts was extremely complicated, so he excluded the handsome young man with the mint hair from the assignment.

While Silver, he probably would have fallen asleep during the times he was supposed to be watching you and keeping you safe, and not feeling safe about his presence at all along with yours, contrivedly imagining the fact that you could have been more comfortable with someone like you than with a powerful fae like him.

And leaving the job to none other than the one he trusted most, Lilia Vanrouge, who would immediately accept the job, subtly hinting that the future monarch might have a little crush on the adorable human.

It would be useless to say that every guy who before wandered around you, would have disappeared for a long time, noticing the look quite strange and disturbing both of Lilia and the heavy and suffocating presence of Malleus at your side. He absolutely had to avoid that he could be replaced by someone else unworthy and ungrateful of your presence, so making him more self-conscious and stunned by your calm and long chats, from which he would learn a lot of information about your life and yourself. At first he did not know what to do with that feeling of constant burning in his chest, he being quite if not completely inexperienced and innocent about abstract concepts and never tried for him as love.

Lilia would be his humble mentor in this new world where the powerful black-haired wizard would stumble upon. It would teach him everything he knew about this new burning feeling, a feeling as wonderful as it was painful.

And Malleus was doing exactly what the wise ancient fae had told him. Even though he still didn’t fully realize what he was doing, he trusted Lilia blindly, and he knew for a fact that he would never do anything to hinder him in any way. He was sacrificing for you every single piece of his mind, every drop of his being for you, putting his heart on a silver platter so you could do the same with yours. His behavior would start to change in a twisted way, constantly giving you questions, some of which were extremely personal and you weren’t allowed to answer, which annoyed him to say the least.

He was doing everything he needed to do, bare his heart, revealing all the darkest secrets of his soul, and you dared to lie to him and not answer?

Didn’t you have to make sacrifices?

In a relationship no one would keep secrets for themselves, and Malleus knew first of all what it was like to keep everything inside, catalyzing those emotions inside, but that didn’t justify your unwelcome behavior towards that kind of thing. He knew how hard it was, but if he could, he knew you could, too, and just as you comforted him on all his worries and forgave him for everything he did, he knew he would, too, He didn’t think you might have done such terrible or uncircumcised things that you would have categorically refused to express. He would never have judged the only person who had approached him, it would have been the equivalent of a suicide for the young man. He would never do that.

"All right, child of man, I see, now what do you say we take a walk? The weather is great right now."

He was doing everything he had to do, bare his heart, revealing all the darkest secrets of his soul, and you dared lie to him and not answer?

Didn’t you have to make sacrifices?

In a relationship no one would keep secrets for themselves, it wouldn’t be right; and Malleus knew firsthand what it meant to keep it all inside, catalyzing those emotions and hiding them, But that couldn’t possibly justify your unwelcome behavior towards that kind of thing. He knew how difficult it was to talk about uncomfortable topics and say everything to a person who couldn’t understand exactly how they felt; but if he, Malleus, could open up to you completely, he knew you could do the same with him.

And just as you comforted him on all his cares and forgave him for all that he had done, he knew he would also do it: he would hold your hands gently, wrap them with his much larger hands, and bring one to your wonderful face, stroking his cheek with his thumb and at the same time wiping a stray tear, he would have moved your head so that your looks could cross, the beautiful color of your eyes in contact with his jade eyes, inducing you to tell him all that you hid in the depths of your pure heart, smiling at your best and trying to comfort you to the fullest of his abilities, and holding you gently and tightly in an embrace as streams of words and words flowed from your mouth, as Malleus would have listened to every drop of it, drinking from your lips as if he were thirsty.

He didn’t think that you could do things so terrible or so evil that you would categorically refuse to express, he knew that you could never do it, he knew that you were so pure that not even the most corrupt creature would be able to corrupt you. And even if he was wrong about him, he would never have judged the only person who had ever approached him, never dreamed of it. A stab in the heart would have been better than witnessing your pain and disgust. He would never do that.

But, regardless of his thoughts and wills, he knew full well that everything that was going on around him was just daydreams, an illusion created by his cruel imagination to fill those moments when you weren’t together.

He did not understand.

What was going on?

What was happening to him?

All those images in his mind, all those thoughts about you, horrible scenarios where you forget about him, where you would finally listen to your pathetic friends and start avoiding him, like so many people have done before. The daydreams were progressively and slowly turning into nightmares for the fae, who did not yet understand what was happening, for him a morbid fear of your rejection, and the anger towards your friends who at the moment when they spotted even a small spark of his presence, would begin to invent unnecessary problems just to get away from him, which he would have responded with an even thicker stickiness than before, indirectly forcing you to stay with him for hours and hours, he could not describe the anxiety and the prominent prong he felt every time he saw you among those people who would separate you. He didn’t want to lose you, he would have died if you had just tried to leave, he felt a twinge in his heart just at the thought of canvases.

All he wanted was to hold on to his treasure so tight that he could never escape from his arms, so damn and selfishly close that no pathetic human or any other creature would ever be able to see you again.

During those moments of silence he would begin to think about which of the towering towers of his castle in his land would be most suitable for your stay. Surely he would have chosen the room in the highest tower of the castle, and the most lavish and shining room you would ever see, and inevitably he would have basked under the pride that your compliments on the luxuries of the place would have brought him, swelling his chest with a smile of happiness, one of his typical smiles he would do only in your presence. He would have taken care of you personally, leaving you with no choice but to blindly trust him, which he did with you, he would have dressed you in the best fabrics and dresses ever made, all custom-made by your future husband, would order his cooks to cook every dish or delicacy that would come to your mind, would make you bathe in the best cosmetics and beauty products recommended no less cehe by Vil himself. He would have lovingly provided for your every wish, even and especially at times when you wanted to become closer to each other. He would cuddle you lovingly everywhere in his castle, whether it was in front of Lilia and her knights or in front of his entire kingdom. He wanted everyone to know that you were his and his alone.

His beautiful treasure, the purest and brightest of all that other rubbish that ran around you and him.

This behavior and abrupt change in his habits, would have been noticed by you and everyone you considered friends and acquaintances, which would have only fulfilled his greatest fears, Now, despite your cryptic look where he could vaguely distinguish those two emotions that he absolutely did not want to see on your beautiful features, pain and distrust towards him.

He could not bear to live a life without you, by now you had become the only person who had finally given him the wonderful feeling of being well-liked, what did you expect from a powerful dragon fae who had always been deprived of love throughout his long life?

It was obvious that he would attach himself to the very first person who would show him some affection.

Especially if that person was you.

It would have changed your mind. He knew you’d never give him up, it wasn’t like you, it would make you realize that everything you were doing was just because you were being manipulated by your rotten friends that you were with every time. He only had to show you that those you considered friends were not such, and that he alone was worthy of your holy trust, taking your splendid body in his arms and returning to his land.

The school years were over for him, and by a lucky coincidence all this would fortunately happen a few months before the end of his senior year at Night Raven College. And as long as you could have fought him and tried to spread your white wings, tried to go desperately to Crowley, what could that stingy little crow do to a guy like him? He could literally shatter his precious school and everyone in it with a simple earthquake, and he knew he would never want that.

"Me’è corom veh, m’j cora⁴"

Finally he could fulfill his deepest dreams, finally he had another half to spend eternity with. He could finally have his happy ending, an end that had always been denied him until that moment, now it would become reality, and all because of your kindness and kindness.

You both would have your happy endings, forever trapped in the dragon’s jaws.

¹= Habibi is an Arabic word that literally means “my love” (sometimes also translated as “my dear,” “my darling,” or “beloved.”) It is used primarily as a pet name for friends, significant others, or family members. "Habibi" is used for boys, and "habibiti" for girls. I choose to use habibi because it's easier to me, but you can always change that based on your preferences!

²= Translated: "The beauty of this school, someone who has a beauty from another world."

³= A member of an online community of young men who consider themselves unable to attract women or men sexually, typically associated with views that are hostile towards those who are sexually active.

⁴=Translated: "I love you, my love", from the Ancient Language of Feridia, the Feridian Alphabet consists of about 21 symbols with a refined spelling, which in most cases represent one of the elements of Nature that ruled the Island and the Fairies of Feridia. Almost every graphic symbol can be traced back to a letter of our current alphabet, allowing us in some cases to reproduce approximately some proper name.

· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Part one

Part two

[ggukkiedae]

we stick together

date: late october 2018

warning/s: mentions of when hannah iced everyone out

notes from cia: a little junghan fluff :3 a bunch of hannah content for 2018 is coming up to catch up to yoonmi in the timeline so everyone will be aligned! that means seri timeline posts like this soon, too!

gif is from pinterest, not mine! dialogue in italics is spoken in english

word count: 2.2k

hannah gets jungwoo to have dinner with and talk to her

“How are you keeping up, Kitsune.”

“I’m pretty good, Yuta-san.”

Their tired comments towards each other were barely audible with the music reverberating throughout the practice room and eleven pairs of footsteps synching with the music. The tension was high, and the whole 127 was using the last bit of energy to do well before practice was passed over to the dreamies, who all happened to be cheering them on.

By the time the music ended, Hannah looked behind her to see Yuta on the ground huffing. Not to say that she wasn’t huffing either, but the victory was in the fact that she was still standing. The cheers of the dreamies filled the room while the 127 members caught their breath. She walked over to pull Yuta from the ground.

“You win this round.” It looked like he was going to put her in a headlock, making her flinch slightly, but he decided to fix her hair instead. “How do you have so much energy?”

“I’m young and fresh,” she flipped her hair at him, making him laugh.

Jungwoo, who watched from beside them, laughed. “I don’t understand what this whole competition is.”

“Just seeing who’s the weaker one,” Hannah smiled at him while poking Yuta’s side. “Clearly, oppa, you’re doing better than Mister Anime Character over here.”

“I have to keep up with you guys somehow, right?”

Jungwoo’s statement may have sailed over the other members’ heads, but it stuck with her. How could it not when that was the same exact thing she was thinking merely a few months earlier?

It was a darker place for her back then. She had pulled away from the members and almost literally worked herself to death just trying to “keep up” with everyone else. Because of that, Haechan and Jaemin had made it a point to sleepover in her and Mark’s dorm ever since then.

She’d think that after all that, everyone would have caught on to those kinds of statements after that whole fiasco, but apparently not. Then again, everyone was exhausted, and Jungwoo had said it so quietly that she wasn’t sure if even Yuta heard it despite him being right behind her.

“8 Dream, your turn!” Their dance teacher’s voice brought her out of her thoughts, along with Jaemin who was already next to her and placing an electrolyte drink in her hand. “Let’s just go over your formations again so the three can rest.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if we have a fifteen-minute break?” Haechan asked hopefully, adding a bit of aegyo to his voice. He huffed when the choreographer gave them a look. “I know, I know. Tight schedule.”

“Let’s go,” she placed her drink down and got up, “because the sooner we start, the sooner we can finish.”

And the sooner she could talk to Jungwoo.

“I’m calling it,” Taeyong advised everyone as soon as he checked his phone, “we’re more than thirty minutes past our agreed ending time. Everyone wash up, eat, and get some rest. Haeeunie, Mark?”

The two who were fixing their bags next to each other both looked at their leader in attention upon being called.

“Yes, hyung?” Mark answered.

“Are you sleeping in the 127 dorms tonight?”

They exchanged looks before turning back to Taeyong. “Not tonight, hyung.”

“The kid’s just too shy to stay with us,” Johnny patted Hannah’s cheek, “which is why she knocks and waits for us to answer before going in. You know the passcode, princess. You can just go in, we know you aren’t some crazy person.”

She froze just the slightest bit at the mention of crazy people, but she laughed it off. “I don’t want to walk in and find any of you naked. Thanks, anyway, oppa.”

She accepted the shirt Johnny had handed her and slipped off the one she was wearing, leaving her in her sports bra for a bit. She laughed as most of her new unit members looked away, still not used to her doing that. Meanwhile, she handed Taeyong a towel as soon as he walked over.

“You do have to wait for a bit for your slippers,” Taeyong began as he helped her wipe the sweat off her back. “Sorry, the ones we ordered for you haven’t arrived yet.”

His words surprised her. They ordered her slippers? Specifically for her? That was strange. The dreamies tended to just wear whatever slippers they had around or just walk barefooted or in socks since they kept the floor clean anyway. No one had a set pair of slippers. Besides, she didn’t even live in the 127 dorms, so she didn’t think they’d get her anything for it.

“Stop giving that look,” Taeyong squished her cheeks into a forced smile, which she instinctively backed away from, making him laugh. “We ordered you a bunch of stuff for the dorm if you ever want to sleep over here during promotions. We know you Lee siblings just live in the building on the other street, but it might be easier for you, you know? My room’s always open for you.”

“Thanks, leader-nim,” she smiled at him before slipping Johnny’s shirt on and tying her hair up in a bun, “but we’re going back to our dorm. Hyuck, too. We have rehearsals in the morning before the Dream Show.”

“We won’t make a ruckus in the morning for you guys this way,” Mark added.

Taeyong looked at them worriedly, “Okay, babies. The three of you make sure to get proper rest okay? Kihyun hyung is my spy, so I will know if you don’t.”

She laughed at him as Haechan moved to stand beside her, taking her bag and throwing an arm around her and Mark’s shoulders, “I’ve got these babies, hyung.”

“You, too,” Taeyong lightly thumped Haechan’s forehead before walking away to check on the rest of the members.

Hannah simply laughed while Haechan gave a loud dramatic reaction to their leader’s actions. With one glance around the room, her eyes fell on the newest addition to the unit. She slipped from under her twin’s arm, leaving him for Mark to handle while she refilled her water bottle.

Jungwoo was already there, quietly filling up a small paper cup with his name written on it, uncharacteristically quiet. Jungwoo had been training with 127 for a while, learning the old choreographies alongside her, but this was his first time training with the exact same knowledge and experience with a song as the rest of the group. It must have felt as strange for him as it did for her when she first learned Cherry Bomb with the group despite not being in the actual comeback, and Touch as well.

“You know,” she smiled up at him while squatting to fill her bottle up after he retracted his cup, “I’d suggest bringing a water bottle to training. A big one.”

“What?” Jungwoo looked at Hannah in surprise as if he was broken out of his thoughts.

She just shrugged and gestured to the rest of the members around the practice room, “Unlike with the Boss unit, these oppas tend to take shorter breaks at longer intervals. You don’t get to drink or breathe as much when you spend time walking here, filling a cup, and all that.”

Jungwoo simply looked at her, as if trying to look into her thoughts. She simply got up and tilted her head at him.

“Oppa,” she called out, “do you want to have dinner with me? We can go to that small restaurant in the street behind the company?”

“That sounds nice,” Jungwoo nodded. “I’d like that.”

Hannah gave a satisfied smile as she walked over to Haechan, taking her wallet out of her bag that now hung on his shoulder. He gave her a curious look.

“Haeeun-ah,” his tone was serious, eyes narrowing slightly, “It’s almost eleven. Where are you going with your wallet?”

“Just the restaurant behind the building,” she told him. “Jungwoo oppa and I are just going to have dinner together and have a little 127 newbies time.”

Haechan’s eyes softened. She had told him before how she had wanted to be able to talk to Jungwoo about them both joining 127 at almost the same time, thinking it was a way for them to get even closer and for them to be reassured they had a companion. Haechan had encouraged this, but their busy schedule had kept her from finding the time so far.

However, it was late at night, and a few of the previous threats Haechan had read made him hesitant to let Hannah out without him by her side at this time. Hannah, knowing him inside-out, already knew how he felt.

“Jungwoo oppa and I will be together the whole time,” she reassured him, “and it’s just to the restaurant and home. We’re only three months apart, Hyuck. You don’t have to treat me like a baby.”

“You know I worry,” Haechan kissed the side of her head. “And I trust hyung. Just be back by 12:30. Mark hyung and I will wait for you at the 127 dorm so we can walk back together. Neither of you are walking alone at night. Oh, and bring me back some of the kimchi fried rice from there, I’d like that for breakfast.”

She just nodded at him, lightly shoving him away with a chuckle before heading to Jungwoo and holding out her hand for him to take. He smiled at her, taking her hand and looking around before quickly pulling her out the door. She laughed and jogged after him, shaking her head at Doyoung’s accusatory voice of her never wanting to hold his hand.

Laughter filled the small space as Hannah and Jungwoo exchanged stories of their time as trainees. The food in front of them disappeared quick as their hunger and exhaustion caught up to them, so they were left sitting and exchanging stories while waiting for the takeout Hannah had gotten for Mark and Haechan.

“It’s crazy, you know,” she told Jungwoo as their previous story wrapped up, “the day I met you, that was the day they told me I’d be in 127.”

Jungwoo met her eyes with a pleasant smile, gently pinching her cheek, “Now we’re both here.”

She instinctively swatted his hand away, making him chuckle. She filled their cups with water as she started speaking again. “I remember first training with the oppas and thinking I needed to do so much to catch up with them. You didn’t hear this from me, but I was maybe just a little bit scared.”

“They had your back, though,” Jungwoo noted.

“Yeah,” Hannah smiled to herself, “they helped me whenever I asked or when I looked confused about something, but still. I only ever spoke to Johnny oppa, Taeyong oppa, and Doyoung oppa out of the other 127 members. I trained with the girls before I trained with Dream.”

“Was it weird?”

“A little bit. I feel a little guilty to debut before the others, but most of them didn’t really like me, anyway. Being added into 127 with the oppas? Definitely weird. I had to take some time to learn the unit’s culture when together and how it differs from Dream.”

Jungwoo nodded in understanding. Training with other trainees was one thing. Training with the Boss unit was different. Training with 127 was another set of unwritten rules he had to figure out as well.

He pulled jokes and was friendly with the members, but he mostly stayed quiet during actual training in order to catch wind of how things work and to focus on being on par with the members to not burden them.

“It feels a little like I have to earn my spot in the unit,” she admitted.

The older boy looked at her in surprise. “You feel that, too?”

She shrugged, “127 achieved a lot in the past two years since debut. I felt like the odd one out for a while. Thus the whole icing-everyone-out situation a few months ago.”

“Right,” he nodded, “we were all worried. You were never the odd one out.”

“Neither are you,” she smiled at him, “I want you to know that. You deserve to be in NCT as much as any of us, and in 127, too.”

Jungwoo snorted before looking down at their table. “That’s why you wanted to get dinner with me, huh?”

“We 127 newbies have to stick together, don’t we?” She poked his head to get his attention. “I’ve got your back. We can gang up on everyone else. It’s you and me, oppa.”

He laughed, nodding at her. “It’s you and me, Hannah. I guess it’s nice to have someone who I can go through this with.”

“I think so, too.”

Before they could continue their conversation, the restaurant owner came, placing the takeout on the table and greeting them goodnight. Having already paid earlier, the two kids left the store with a grateful bow.

Hannah quietly watched a more relaxed Jungwoo chatter as they walked back to the dorm. She didn’t know if she could do it, but she’d try her damn best to make sure he didn’t feel the way she felt all those months ago.

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[coredrill]

this post is not abt bravern but it Is abt my Bravern Feelings

i miss this show so much already SOBS. i did enlist another g roup of irl friends to watch it w me though and we are starting tomorrow so yay :] and also beware the rewatch posts

[guy who has said that i'm glad i watched this live every week voice] i'm rly glad i watched this live, but this time its bc. i think there is something so truly and genuinely special abt the way that the theories abt bravern himself evolved week to week.........like at first everyone was like Well maybe he's an evil alien who is gonna Kill isami. and then everyone was like Well maybe he's a death drive and isami is his lulu. and THEN everyone was like Well there's still some knuth in there so. but none of that was the case!!! none of that was true!!! it was literally just this one guy and all of the love he has and Absolutely Sucks Shit at expressing!!!!!!! and i just. idk. that hits me rly hard that maybe it was percieved as sinister at first just cause it was a little Off but in the end it was something really really sweet :] it also just feels like yet another way of the show doing its "we know audiences aren't willing to accept optimism at face value these days" schtick like they mentioned in that one interview and just. showing how bravern himself evolves in the eyes of the viewer. it's rly special to me :]

i know bravern speaking german in ep2 was a nod to the translator he uses on superbia later but. what if someone loved you so much they became german (if i ever mention kyouji again in a bravern context just fucking shoot me)

WILD to watch the finale and then see the isami hate train take off FKSJDHFJ cause i feel like i adored him so much in that ep LMAO. my guy really felt every emotion known to man in the span of 22 minutes and then started makin gup new ones. he's very human!!! and i love that abt him!!!!

although some takes. i'm ngl. i know we joke abt subtext and cowards but it becomes less funny when the subtext that is there is missed LMAO

sorry to keep bringing up ep4 but i think its SO interesting how like. the way that bravern seems to helps isami out emotionally in that ep actually ends up not helping him in the long run aswell? like getting to know all those ppl care abt him is good ofc but it also feeds Directly into his hangups in ep5. and i remember being a little confused as to Why that was the case on first watch cause ep4 was So abt his beef w lulu (FLSDKJFH) but w the smith being a human again thing in the end it makes. so much more sense!!!!! i can't wait to rewatch the show w it still fresh in my mind and find even more!!!!!!

and omg the beef with lulu. literally nothing is funnier to me than "we are gonna have one Rival Fight in this show and that position is gonna be filled by isami and smith's fucking KID" SOBS. LIKE. it kills me FKSLDJFHL. though i will say again that i think it is So fucking special that in ep10 lulu specifically calls out isami taking care of her after smith dies and it apparently happens to such a degree that like. he is worth her time traveling back to save independently aswell? even though there was no way that he "took care of her" for more than a couple days? which i think just says so much abt isami in the sense that like. at no point before ep6-7ish in his arc would he have even entertained that idea. uwu

i think i said this before but ikd if i included the screenshot but. the fact that while bravern is dying he sees THAT SAME FUCKING PICTURE is just evidence that men do not take enough photos i think

there is literally Nothing more onbrand for bravern than the fucking. "ep13 abema listing" (if anyone who has not heard abt that sees this. it was just a rebroadcast of ep12 mislabeled) sending everyone into a tizzy regarding like. Secret Episode Question Mark except half of everyone being convinced its an april fools joke and the other half being convinced that the april fools joke is that we didn't expect it. and then it turns out to not be interntional atall and the real april fools joke is Fry Pan. SOBS

Crunchyroll I Am Begging You If You Dub This Please Dub The Songs Too Oh My God (<- delusional)

anyways!!!!!!!!!!! again i know recency bias is the killa but god. i really loved this show a lot!!!! it might be an alltime fave story for me in general!!!!!! even if it's not it was a really special experiance and story on the whole and i'm just really really happy i get to carry it in my heart forever :]

[ncisfranchise-source]

With the April 15 episode of “NCIS” on CBS, the overall franchise — including its multiple spinoffs — clocks its 1,000th episode. That’s a milestone for all of the associated series, but the mothership show accounts for nearly half of those, and is edging ever closer to its own once-unfathomable benchmark: “NCIS” O.G. is at 463 episodes and counting, with the 500-show mark hardly out of reach, especially now that the show has just been renewed for its 22nd season. There’s no end in sight, with the top-rated drama series having proven its ability to withstand cast changes, such as the loss of Mark Harmon, the show’s original team leader, in 2021. (Gary Cole tagged in as Harmon was departing during Season 19.)

And yet, if there were a complete and total turnover, fans’ loyalty might not still be the same. Although there’s no cast member left from the show’s premiere back in 2003, it has two who were extremely close to the origin point, in Sean Murray and Brian Dietzen, who had recurring characters during the first season before becoming series regulars. And Rocky Carroll goes back to Season 5 — several lifetimes ago in network TV time. Not to mention, “NCIS” benefits greatly from the infusion of new blood, in “recent” additions like Katrina Law (who joined in the 18th season) and Diona Reasonover (who came in in Season 16).

To celebrate the franchise’s 1,000th episode, as the cast was leaving for hiatus after wrapping up Season 21, Variety gathered together two of those longest-standing cast members, Murray and Carroll, and two of the newest regulars, Law and Reasonover, for a discussion about the vein of immortality they’ve apparently tapped into.

For all of you, but especially the more veteran members, what was your honest prospectus for how long this gig was going to last when you came on?

Rocky Carroll: When I came on the show toward the end of Season 5, I literally was telling my friends, “Hey, I made it on the tail end of the series. If it goes seven years, at least I got in two full seasons on a hit show!” I was thinking, if we get to seven seasons, man, it’ll be a feather in my cap. And that was 16 years ago. That was my mindset, because most of the most famous shows in television history, hit shows that you know, have gone less than 10 seasons — six, seven is kind of the goal. So when we got into double digits, I knew we were in rare air.

Sean Murray: Yeah, I feel the same. In terms of when you start a TV show, the pilot getting picked up is a miracle. Then the pilot going to series is a miracle. To have a full season is a miracle! To go four or five years is unbelievable and rare. To go 21 years is unfathomable. TV shows are not meant to go that long.

I joke about how on our sets, the partitions that make up our office sets are falling apart. They’re literally held together by rubber bands. So, it’s hard to wrap your head around. And the world of “NCIS” seems to be this living thing where characters can come and go from it. It’s wild to be here 21 years later and have everyone sticking with us — kind of unheard of, I think.

Sean, going back to the first season, when you were on just eight episodes, were you nervous then, like — “Is this even gonna be like a regular gig next year”?

Murray: Well, it happened sort of naturally. McGee came in as a one-time guest star, and was a probational rookie officer at the local base in Virginia, Norfolk, helping the team with the case. He slowly started appearing more and more after that, and it just kind of felt like a natural sort of progression. It felt almost like he was a little slice of the pie — the pizza pie — that made up the team, like there was something untouched there, and McGee filled that a little bit and it allowed for some new dynamics.

I remember when we finished Season 1, talking to Harmon and everyone else, and saying, “I hope I see you guys next year.” Good things were in the air, and I came back full-time on Season 2, so I guess it worked out.

Carroll: And, for the record, actors never lose that sense of, “Is this the last time…?” You’re constantly in a state of, what’s next, as a performer. Even if you do a show that’s this successful, you always look at the next script as if, “Am I OK? I’m in this episode, too. Good. Good.” You never lose that sense. It’s an innate thing for us actors to always feel like, “OK, are we still a part of this? Is this gonna have a future?” That never goes away.

Rocky Carroll as NCIS Director Leon Vance and Sean Murray as Special Agent Timothy McGee on “NCIS.”CBS

Sean, do people look to you as an “NCIS” historian, just because you go back so close to day one?

Murray: No, I hope not, because I can barely remember what I had for lunch. We’ve done almost 500 of these bad boys, so I usually count on our fans to tell me what’s going on.

Katrina Law: No, Sean has an uncanny memory for details of very specific scripts. There are times where he’ll pull out a character from Episode 3 of Season 4 and tell you the entire plot line. You’re like, “Oh my gosh, how do you remember all of this?” So I go to Sean as the historian. He knows everything.

Murray: Sometimes I can pull it out, every once in a while, if I got some sleep.

So you’re forgetting what a good memory you have. Katrina, for your part, how many times do we get to read in the trades or in Wikipedia or anywhere that a principal cast member “came on in the 18th season.”

Law: I was laughing, because the newbies on the show consist of me and then Diona, who’s now going to — what? Your seventh or eighth season? And that’s usually when most hit shows are ending. But that’s considered the new blood on the show. So that made me laugh a little bit.

When I came on in the 18th season, I’m not gonna lie: “NCIS” felt like home to me. And the reason why is because I have been watching the show off and on for the past 20 or, at that point, 18 years, with my father and with my husband. So it’s this whole dynamic of kind of growing up with the show. So the thought of it going on forever doesn’t seem that strange, because it feels like it’s been on forever and it’s just a fabric of American television culture, or of, actually, international world culture.

But when I came on, I knew that Harmon was leaving, so we all just thought to ourselves, well, it’s either gonna be one fantastic season and — like Rocky said — what’s next?, or we’re gonna pull it together. I think it’s a testimony to this cast and the chemistry that we all just gel and — tell me if I’m wrong, guys, but we have such a beautiful chemistry off screen that it carries on to the screen. And with our writers constantly coming up with fresh new ideas, and then having the new blood of Diona and me infusing with the old blood and being able to create new stories and new dynamics, there’s so much more versatility now that I think the show has potential to still go on for a long time.

For the the two of you who are “the new blood,” so to speak, you have to have a sense of the hole you’re filling when you come in, because typically someone else has left the show. At least, I’m guessing you have this vague awareness of, OK, here’s what the show’s been missing that I’m bringing in, but I can’t duplicate what anybody did before me.

Diona Reasonover: Oh, more than a vague awareness. I felt so fortunate when I got this show, mainly because everybody was so welcoming, from the jump. But also, I knew exactly who Abby was. You get Pauley Perrette in your mind — and she had been literally part of people’s families, because this show becomes something that people watch multi-generationally — and the characters almost become like family members. So I was really nervous, but I actually found the fans to be quite welcoming too. I still get people saying, now, “I wasn’t sure I was gonna like you at first, but I do now.” And I’m glad to have won them over.

Carroll: At the end of Season 5, because the cast had been so firmly established, and my character was sort of a cog in the wheel, I was basically told by the producers, “Don’t read the social media.” Although at the time, there was no Twitter, so it was more like fan pages. And literally, you feel like a stepdad coming into a new family, and the kids are like, “That’s not my dad.” So for a long period of time, I was told, “Just stay away from the fans’ responses.” But over time they grow to accept you, and I give the fans of the show so much credit, because over these 21, now 22 seasons, with all the changes and machinations that have happened with us, the fans have stayed with us.

It’s like when you’re friends with somebody for life, when somebody has a real impact on you, you’re not just friends with ’em when things are good. You go through all of their ups and downs, peaks and valleys. And we’ve dealt with death, with loss, in real life, and changes in cast, changes in so many different ways. And the fans say, “Hey, we’re still here. We still believe in it.”

Rocky, how many years did it take you to get over being the new guy?

Carroll: About 10.

Just a decade? OK.

Carroll: No, you know, going into this, the only person that I knew who was connected to “NCIS” was Mark Harmon. He and I worked together on “Chicago Hope,” so I was the Mark Harmon-approved hire. So I figured, look, if there’s one person that you should know coming into something that’s already established already, it’s good to know No. 1 on the call sheet. So I just sort of said, “Hey, listen, I’m here. I follow your lead, however you need me. I don’t need to be front and center.”

I loved kind of having this antagonistic sort of relationship with the main character, but I knew I was in good hands because Harmon and I knew each other. He was the one that said to everybody else, the networks and the studio, “This guy will help us out.” So I always felt like I was in good hands, regardless of the fan pages. Harmon was like, “Just come in and do your job.” So that’s kind of where I went.

I remember eight years or so in, I was on set and I’d have conversations with Michael Weatherly about what could actually kill “NCIS.” And he would say that maybe the only thing that could really kill it is Harmon leaving, because it could probably survive anyone else’s loss. Would any of you admit to harboring doubts that, yeah, maybe that would mark the end of the show? No pun intended.

Murray: Yeah, I mean, you never know what’s going to happen with that — that’s an unknown variable. But I remember getting the call that Gary Cole was going to come in, before Harmon left, and I couldn’t have been happier hearing that name; I can’t even tell you. I think if we tried to plug someone in that was anything like Leroy Jethro Gibbs, it would’ve been a disaster.

I think a lot of shows out there would try and do something like that, but not us. I don’t think it would’ve worked out as well had we not had Gary, and everything that he brings with the character.

Katrina Law as NCIS Special Agent Jessica Knight, Sean Murray as Special Agent Timothy McGee, Rocky Carroll as NCIS Director Leon Vance, and Gary Cole as FBI Special Agent Alden Parker.CBS

Law: I think that’s a nice thing about “NCIS” with the casting process is that when they bring on new people, they’re never asking them to be the same character. And they never wanted Gary to be Gibbs 2.0, just like I’m sure they never wanted Diona to be Pauley 2.0. We have some pretty amazing shoes to fill, but they’re asking us to bring our own pair of shoes, which is kind of nice.

Sean, it’s provided an opportunity as time has gone on for you to be more of the alpha male on the show. There’s been some evolution over the years into your sort of leadership role.

Murray: It’s funny, because like people will say, “Oh, you must be tired of playing the same character for 20-plus years.” But my character, luckily for me, has been able to evolve as the show has grown. So none of it has ever felt boring to me. I always feel like there’s growth there. I remember talking to the writers early on about the stumbling, bumbling rookie McGee. And I remember saying, “We want growth. We don’t wanna have baby Maggie Simpson, and every year, every week, you revert to the same thing.” Luckily, they’re very much on board with that.

Once we were in this rare era where this show was sort of past its expiration date, as it were, and we were into Season 10, Season 11, I think the actors and the writers sort of came to an agreement. It’s like, “Hey, instead of trying to tell the same stories from the same way and make these characters sort of stuck at one age or at one point, if the show is growing, let’s grow with the show. Let us get older. Let us evolve. Let us have the things that happen to people over a 20-year period of time.” So we were able to have the same characters, but able to tell different stories, because we didn’t get locked into a certain time frame where they can’t get older. It’s like, we got older, we had kids, we had relationships, we had breakups, we had deaths — so I feel like I’ve been doing different things for 20 years. I don’t feel like I’ve been doing the same thing, which is why the time has flown by.

Plus, I like hanging out with these cats.

(L-R): Katrina Law as NCIS Special Agent Jessica Knight, Wilmer Valderrama as Nick Torres, Sean Murray as Special Agent Timothy McGee, Brian Dietzen as Jimmy Palmer, Gary Cole as FBI Special Agent Alden Parker, and Diona Reasonover as Forensic Scientist Kasie Hines.CBS

In February, the show paid tribute to David McCallum after his death with a farewell-to-Ducky episode. The way this show’s going, you could all still be on the show in your 90s. Have you thought that far ahead?

Carroll: If I have the ability to remember dialogue in my 90s…

Law: If we’re lucky enough to be working that long and happily, yes. Looking forward to it.

Reasonover: If they’re willing to give me craft feed up until I turn 90, yeah.

Law: Oh, yeah. Somebody doing your hair and makeup until you’re 90?

Carroll: And, on that subject, when the show started, the story is, David McCallum said to his wife, “I’m 70 years old. What if this thing goes five, seven years?” I mean, the fact that that he was almost 20 years with the show and started at age 70 — which I still don’t believe, because when you look at those early episodes, it’s like, “That man is not 70 years old.”

It’s pretty incredible for him to have not just the renaissance, but like an entire career after the age for 70. He could still memorize dialogue in his 80s, which is not an easy feat.

Law: One of my favorite things about Sean is, because he has been here for about 21 years, you can see he’s so settled and grounded into his role in the “NCIS” world. But there’s this little twinkle in his eye as he watches the shenanigans and the mayhem kind of circle around him, where he’s just kind of like, “OK, bring it.” And I think you can only get that for being on something for 20-some years. It’s a really fun dynamic to watch.

Do you feel twinkly, Sean, right now?

Murray: I feel extremely twinkly. Are you kidding? Katrina Law just gave me a compliment, so I feel fantastic.

Carroll: And no one knows shenanigans like Katrina Law.

Law: Oh, the shenanigans are usually because he’s watching me mess up my lines.

Reasonover: One thing about Katrina Law, if she has shenans once, she is gonna shenan-again.

Carroll: I see what you did there.

Reasonover: See you guys next season…

[oh-three]

PJO S1E7:

Who on Earth is this guy. Who's Procrustes. Oh, fuck, a half-brother and a murderer. How did I forget about him. He was in the books, right?

What the fuck kind of waterbed is that?

Lmfao, he totally deserved that. Have a taste of your own medicine, Procrustes.

I like how the entrance to the Underworld is literally marked with a door that straight up says "Do Not Enter".

"Don't make me come back out there!" You tell him, Annabeth!

Young Percy is perfect 😂

I was about to make a comment about Cerberus having a toy ball, but apparently it was Grover with a stress ball. Poor guy doesn't get paid enough for this 😂

"We're all dying...to some extent." Percy sounds just like me with that one.

CERBERUS! Oh my god, he is a giant Rottweiler, I love it.

I have never seen a dog fall asleep that fast before.

Those flying shoes are really coming in handy after all.

These guys have way too many close calls, holy shit.

Let's be honest, Cerberus is going to fucking swallow that ball.

Why is the palace upside down.

Sally Jackson is the best mom ever.

PERCY, STOP SACRIFICING YOURSELF.

O-kay, that's ominous.

There is something truly heartbreaking about the regretful sounds being literally bound into the ground by roots. No one deserves that.

ANNABETH, YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO SACRIFICE YOURSELF EITHER.

Oh, thank god.

Oh. So there dreams were from Hades. Okay, damn, thought for sure they were setting up Kronos for later seasons.

TAKE THE FUCKING SHOES OFF.

Jesus Christ. That was close.

And there's the fucking Master Bolt. How the fuck did Luke get it in his backpack.

OH. ARES, WHAT THE FUCK.

Sounds about fucking right, though. For Ares. But then, how the fuck is Luke involved??? Was he never the thief in the books? Does my memory suck that bad? Wouldn't put it past myself to brainwash my book memories with ones of the movies.

Imagine how hard it was for Sally, raising Percy and not being able to tell him anything about his parentage. Poseidon owes her compensation tbh.

Love the little temple-y things like that spot of flooring being an elevator.

Why is Hades so familiar. I don't recognize the actor atm, but I swear I know who it is.

He turned her into a fucking gold statue. What the fuck, man.

The plot thickens. Hades is so fucking confused. Everyone is so fucking confused and it's so funny.

AYYY, KRONOS MENTION.

SO I WAS RIGHT, THAT WAS KRONOS IN HIS DREAMS.

"And the goat." Ouch.

Get bamboozled, Hades. You got too ambitious too fast, my guy, even if it was out of rightful fear of Kronos.

POSEIDON SIGHTING.

Why does he have a British accent. Hades doesn't. Does Zeus??

There's something personal about Poseidon acknowledging that Sally's situation is unfair, and that there's no right answer to it. He's good, even if he didn't have the ability to raise Percy as a decent human father would.

Ayyy, team reunion.

Oh, fuck, Ares knew where they'd come out at. MAKE HIM PAY.

That was an awesome monologue. I can't wait till we get more of Poseidon next episode.

I can't believe the season ends next week 😭

[goldentigerfestival]

@crestfallencrest replied: Unfortunately I am now being haunted by this Yuri too, WHAT!!!!!!! Im not too familiar with Crestoria so Im not sure what a transgressor is in this context but holy hell this design???? O_O

Basically a transgressor is someone who was condemned by the majority of the world to be a sinner. Everyone in the world carries a Vision Orb with them to use to record things and they can broadcast things other people do to the entire world, spin a narrative and the world decides if they're guilty of the mentioned crime (they can also leave things out, make things up entirely, etc to fit the narrative they're going for if they're lying).

If the world decides someone is guilty, their Vision Orb breaks and is replaced with a mark called the Stain of Guilt (which is apparently physically painful to get), proving they've sinned and are "guilty", and monster-like creatures called Enforcers show up to kill them (they warp them away into another dimension and kill them basically). Since Yuri isn't dead he warded them off and is on the run like the main cast. Enforcers tend to lay off after a while, but if people see the person again and recognize them, they're likely to call for Enforcers again (in Yuri's case I imagine they'd just call for them anyway, recognized or not, because he clearly has a mark).

When the judgment is that someone is a sinner, the person literally hears their voices of their opinions/comments about them in their head before their Vision Orb breaks, so seeing the general design for Yuri I feel like it fits, but I'm still going to lose sleep for the rest of my life wondering what his story was and how they were going to fit him into the main story (crossover characters could be pretty important and Milla's backstory was tied to the at-the-time main antagonist to the whole story). I'm also ruined over the fact that I am craving Yuri and Vicious interaction in general, plus on top of their Crestoria game stories, as well as their knight boyfriends getting Tired just by watching them together.

Which, for that matter, a Yuri side story probably would've included Flynn, and we'd probably see how Flynn feels about seeing Yuri's crime if not "crime" broadcast to the world and seeing him condemned to be a criminal worth being killed (they don't use Vision Orbs for all crimes, hence why they have knights who handle the small time stuff. Use of a Vision Orb means you're gunning for the person to essentially get the death penalty, which is what will happen if they're condemned and can't fight the Enforcers off). In Vespy we have Flynn being the one who keeps warning Yuri while the people generally love or appreciate him, but in Crestoria it's the complete opposite just based off the fact that he was condemned. Flynn just having to live knowing the whole world hates Yuri and probably thinking he did do something that bad and being so distraught about it... 😔

I imagine it'd ultimately be something like, Yuri was condemned on either false or not-the-whole-story accusations and Flynn used to be one of those people who took Vision Orb users at their word, only to find out how skewed the system was. Would probably meet up with Yuri at some point to get answers (I don't think he'd go there to arrest him if he was a knight in this verse because bringing Yuri back would quite literally mean sending him to his death) and find out the truth. Don't know if Yuri would be on a mission to destroy all the Vision Orbs to prevent good people from being condemned in the future like Kanata is, but he seems to definitely have had a goal in mind. Sad we won't know because his interests feel like they'd have aligned with the main cast's like Milla's did.

Also I get the feeling that Yuri wouldn't regret his sin because I can't see him not doing it for a good purpose (and he's got the damn mark on display like Vicious, who was essentially also wrongfully called a sinner). It's a shame that he would have to be a crossover character in status too though, because the mix of his canon story and his Crestoria story would've normally landed his ass right into the main cast and him getting a Blood Sin from Vicious (which Vicious gives people when they accept their sin and vow to live with it basically). Heck, he might've even done that as a side character and just helped on the side like Milla helped on the side.

I'm sorry this is so long LOL the possibilities were just... THERE. If you ever have the time I'd recommend giving the game a watch on YouTube from what's been recorded from the game. The main story is fully voiced, and you've side stories for the crossover characters and event stories like the other gacha games. The manga changed up a few chunks already because of the removal of the crossover characters, so I personally would recommend the game before the manga. :O

[substituted-shinigami]

Bleach Book Club - Letters From The Other Side

Welcome to Bleach Book Club, where we discuss Bleach Books! Today we are going over the first Bleach light novel, Letters From the Other Side!

Non-spoilery description:

The book description of this story is: It is a novelization of the early chapters of the Bleach manga. Now I’ve read very little of the manga, mostly just watched the anime, so I don’t know if that is true. However I can say for sure that this story did not appear in the anime. Rather than “monster of the week”, like many of the early episodes of Bleach are, it is a “slice of life” story about a lazy sunday at the Kurosaki Household. Rukia makes fun of Ichigo for being "such a hard worker" and studying on the weekend. Ichigo makes fun of Rukia for sleeping in so late and forgetting they have a test LITERALLY TOMORROW, at which point Rukia freaks out, and hijinks ensue. It’s great! Please check it out if you haven’t already, but for those who just need/want a quick summary, here you go!

Spoilery description:

It’s Sunday at the Kurosaki household so that means no school and the clinic is closed. Everyone is eating a leisurely breakfast, except for Ichigo who has to quickly eat in order to bring breakfast to Rukia in secret. When he gets there, despite the fact that he’s two hours later than he normally would be on a school morning, Rukia is still fast asleep, and doesn’t wake up until he knocks. He makes fun of her for this, but Rukia is too happy about receiving food (especially if that food is a cucumber and ham sandwich) to be too mad about it. When she sees Ichigo studying at his desk, she teases him for being such a hard worker for studying on such a nice day. At which point he turns around and says she must be easygoing to not study for their test tomorrow. Rukia says that written tests don’t matter, only practical exams do, and asks when those are. Ichigo says they don’t have any, at which point Rukia freaks out. Turns out if she gets bad marks and has to stay after school, she’ll miss her favorite anime. She demands Ichigo teaches her how to study, but he says he’s too busy studying for the tests (I believe they are midterms?) himself. Kon calls Ichigo heartless, but Rukia agrees Ichigo shouldn’t have to help her, and after changing in the closet, leaves for the library. After she leaves, Kon reminds Ichigo that Rukia is from another world, and therefore legitimately doesn’t know how things work here and probably actually needs help, despite what she says. After some more “Kon hijinks” that results in Ichigo removing his pill so that he can study in peace, he thinks about Rukia’s predicament, sighs, and gives one of his friends a call.

After leaving Ichigo’s house, Rukia runs into Orihime and Tatsuki. When asked where she’s headed, she just mentions she’s going to the library to study. They ask her if she wants to study with them, but due to needing to go to Urahara’s as well, she declines. Orihime then offers Rukia her notes, but Tatsuki says that despite Orihime being very smart, her notes are completely nonsensical. Tatsuki then apologizes and says that her notes are all over the place, but that if Rukia has extra time, she can always come by her house later to study. As the girls leave, Rukia thinks about how nice they are.

Unfortunately, the translation I read was missing the next chapter where Rukia goes to the library, but I think she runs into Keigo and Mizuiro? She tries to hide from them, but fails.

Anyway, the next chapter has Ichigo meeting up with Chad, apparently the only one in their friend group with actually good notes. In fact, Chad’s notes are so good that they have helped Ichigo improve in some of his classes in the past. Anyway, Chad gives him a notebook and asks if Ichigo is using them for himself. Ichigo lies and says he is (since he can’t tell him about Rukia living in his closet), and Chad immediately realizes the truth, but is nice enough not to say anything. They then part ways.

In the last chapter, Ichigo gives Rukia the notes when she returns to the house. He explains they are from Chad, and that even if she crams, she should be able to get by. She thanks him genuinely before disappearing into the closet to study.

My thoughts:

Let me start off by saying, I really love this book. I enjoyed the slice of life feel, and I was really able to connect to the characters. I have been both the Ichigo and the Rukia when it comes to waking others up/being woken up in the morning. I am ABSOLUTELY NOT a morning person, and neither are my siblings, so sometimes I'm the one and other times I am the other. Also, food 100% makes the process better! 10/10 would recommend. Also, I know this is personal, but I love that the Kurosaki family water down their juices. As someone else who grew up with multiple siblings, watering down the juice is a great way to make it last longer, so that was a nice detail. Lastly, I will love this book and Tite Kubo forever for giving us bedhead Rukia art! She is adorable, and I love her with all my heart!

Moving on to the rest of the story, I like that we get to see Rukia interact with some of the other characters too! Rukia is pretty walled off emotionally during the Soul Society Arc, so it's nice to see her inner dialogue when talking to characters like Orihime and Tatsuki. Poor girl, she really liked them, but was scared to get too close! She wasn't of this world after all…

I like the bit of lore we get about Chad and Ichigo’s history too! I like how it builds out their early relationship beyond just "fighting bros".

And in the end, Ichigo gives Rukia the notes because he is a chump, I mean, a really nice guy! (Despite his attempts to appear otherwise, lol!) And Rukia shows honest gratitude despite her SS Arc tsundere tendencies! All in all, a good end to a good book!

Things I learned about the characters:

Ichigo: His family's clinic is closed every Sunday. I always assumed it was an emergency room, and that they were open 24/7! Also, I think this novel is a good reminder that Ichigo doesn't just help out his friends by fighting. He does little things like this too!

Rukia: I always assumed she wasn't a morning person, but this definitely confirms it! Best bedhead, 10/10! I wanted to hug her so bad! I would argue, however, that despite this, she is a very light sleeper since she wakes up on the first knock. Considering her background, both in Rukongai and as a soldier, this makes sense. Also, Rukia, even though you are my favorite character, and I love you, you would make (and technically did make) a terrible roommate! But hey, this does mean she makes great roommate/found family sitcom material! Get this woman a show! (Oh wait!) Anyway, as what was implied by Canon, Rukia is a terrible written test taker, but could probably apply the principles well enough.

Orihime: Is a genius, and just like all geniuses, her notes are illogical to the average person, or shinigami in this case! Also, I wouldn't be surprised if Orihime sort of figured out that Rukia was going through some stuff, not just physically (what with the supernatural battles and all), but also emotionally. Orihime is a nice person who loves making friends, but getting turned down by someone you barely know rarely upsets someone this much. Add that on to what we know of Orihime's past, and I wouldn't be surprised if she figured out that Rukia was severely depressed and was hiding it from everyone, including Ichigo. I think it would be interesting to see Orihime's perspective of Rukia during the Soul Society Arc.

Tatsuki: Her notes are also very bad! Haha! I'm still mad Rukia didn’t take her up on her offer of coming over to study. I WANT TO SEE THESE THREE GIRLS IN A STUDY GROUP TOGETHER!

Chad: The only character out of the entire story who has good, legible notes. Good on you, Chad! I know it feels weird to bring up Renji in a story where he doesn't show up, but if he was as good a test taker as his academy days backstory suggests, then I think he and Chad would make good study buddies!

Kon: Despite Kon being uh… Kon, I like how this story reminds us that this guy is pretty insightful too. Really wish the original story did more with his character.

Final thoughts:

Definitely check this story out if you get a chance! It’s a lot of fun and it’s always nice seeing these characters in such a chill setting. I love them all so much, and think they should all get an apartment together in a college style/found family AU asap! (Oh, look, a drabble!)

Anyways, thank you for reading!

Sources

Story: https://www.wattpad.com/122235261-bleach-letters-from-the-other-side-letters-from

Art: https://imgur.com/a/bYWlb

[a-heart-full-of-dumb]

I have a lot of feelings about the casting for the new Dutch Les Mis production next year. Or well at least about my first impressions about those who are already casted. So imma make a post about it whether you like it or not.

The new Dutch production is just as in the West End the new production and apparently Mackintosh was very closely involved (hurray /s)

Let's start with Valjean: honestly my first impression of the actor was "Oh he'd make a great Dmitri in Anastasia." (Turned out he did play Dmitri in the Dutch run of Anastasia so I was right about that.) I don't know his voice well enough to say anything about whether he can sing Valjean's songs and I am not sure if he's classically trained. But he does have a pretty good voice from what I could find so far. My main issue is though, that he looks younger than Enjolras. This is more an issue with the Enjolras casting but I'll touch onto that later. I'd have to see him in costume before I can make any final judgements about him looking young being an issue, but it's a bit worrying. He's reading the brick though

Javert: honestly this is a casting I'm exited for. Freek Bartels was a pretty great Enjolras during the Dutch 2008 run and I feel like he would make a great Javert too. At first I wasn't too sure if he could get the unhinged vibes Javert has, but now I think about it more, I am pretty sure he can and will. He has been in a lot of shows including several classic shows and, like I mentioned, Les Mis before. So Freek, don't let me down

Enjolras: where do I even start.. not to say that Enjolras has to he played by the hottest actors out there, but Enjolras is supposed to have a certain charm around him. This actor has none of that. He's the most generic looking man I have ever seen (absolutely no offence), he looks honestly a bit too old and from the few clips of him I could find, it didn't look like he has the most stage presence, which I think is quite an important thing for Enjolras to have. You have to believe everyone wants to follow this man, you have to believe and understand why Grantaire looks up to this man so much. You have to believe him in his role and in his passion. Maybe Mark (the actor) will end up surprising me, but I don't have much hope. However, credit where credit is due, he does have a pretty good voice and looking at where he studied and his former roles he is probably classically trained or at least has been in several classical musicals before. So at least he can bring the opera sound to the performance that it's supposed to have.

Éponine: this is a casting that doesn't suprise me. A few days before I knew they were gonna bring Les Mis back I was literally thinking about how, if they were gonna bring les mis back, Vajèn van den Bosch would be cast as either Éponine or Cosette. This is mostly because she's Vajèn cause she's just kinda everywhere, but also because she is a very good actress and singer. She has been in several classical musicals and she absolutely has the voice for the role of Éponine.

Cosette: I am pretty sure the actress just graduated. And this seems to be her first big musical so all I can say is that I'm exited for her. I am sure she'll do great.

Fantine: ah yes, Channah. I've seen her in a show before as older Nala in the Lion King. This was a long time ago though and I don't remeber much of her performance. The only other role I could find was that she apparently played Tina in the German run of the Tina Turner musical and that she makes (Christian) pop music now. Honestly she can sing, but I am really worried she's just gonna sound like a popsinger instead of bringing the classical sound she's supposed to have in the role.

And last for now, Madame Thénardier: apparently Mackintosh was insanely enthusiastic about her casting but idk if that's even good anymore. Personally I don't know her and I could find that many clips of her so all I can say is that she looks very similar to most actresses cast in this role.

I am still confused about the fact that they already casted Madame Thénardier but not Marius?? Nor Thénardier himself?? There was this "les mis in a nutshell" thing the new cast did, and obviously Marius was mentioned several times. However, because there was no actor playing Marius yet, he couldn't give his side of the story so if you didn't know anything about the show you have absolutely no idea who this random Marius dude they're talking about is.

They also keep saying they've casted all the main characters, but then where's Marius?? Is Madame Thénardier a main character? And not her husband who has more to do? I am confused.

[starryocean]

realized there's still books i havent got to talking about yet that ive finished forever ago. whoops. here they are now.

1 - Prince of Thorns by Mark Lawrence

as I expected, it was incredibly edgy. I kept thinking of Jorg as some 13-year-old dA boy's first ever fantasy OC. And he talked as if he felt the same way, too--really believing that he was the coolest shit ever, can do whatever he wants, fuck his dad and fuck the kingdom. nothing personnel, kid.

To Mark's credit, Jorg is also literally 14. I think. 14-15. Either way he's a teenager and has trauma and very much acts like it. I think that's a pretty important thing to state with regards to Jorg's narration. However, it also makes some things he pulled off in his backstory statistically impossible for a...I think 10? 11? year old to do. But there's also some weird magic shit going on, and the weird magic shit is explicitly confirmed to have played a role in at least one of those statistically impossible incidents, so I guess I can believe that maybe there was meddling there as well. idk.

Anyway. Let's talk about what I liked.

The "twist" with regards to the background of the setting as a whole was fairly interesting and properly foreshadowed from the start--even the map was pointing to it. However, it was also the only thing that really kept me reading. I did not like Jorg, even if I thought his narration was hilariously edgy, but somehow I did end up rooting for him to win the last battle at least a little? So I guess some of the reviews didn't lie to me in that that would happen.

So that's another thing I liked. Mark Lawrence is a competent storyteller if he was able to get me invested enough in Jorg--even with Jorg being unlikable as he is--to root for him at all at the very end. Let me be clear that I can't see him ever being truly a "hero" by any definition of the word. But he grew on me. That's the important thing. He grew on me, and it's honestly a sign of good writing that he was able to grow on me at all.

Thirdly: I think it's very, VERY funny that the only reason everyone didn't die half-way through the book is because one guy spoke up about not using every bomb available in order to destroy this one place. This guy saved the fucking world from being annihilated by nukes (yet again, cuz oops spoilers that's the twist it's set in post-nuclear apocalypse Europe) and then nobody even knows it but Jorg and his little group of bandit shitheads. And it's all because he didn't think it was necessary to go all out for one stupid fortress and told Jorg he had to tone it down a bit.

Comedy gold.

Now, what I didn't like:

Jorg. I've already mentioned he's a shithead. Massively so. Literally the book starts with him slaughtering a whole village for no reason, among other things. Literally the only reason I could find myself rooting for him is because the other guys were worse. So since I've already talked a lot about how much I don't like Jorg, I'm moving on.

The treatment of women is also very annoying. it's not as bad as having literally every female character get raped, but the only one who's given any development is the step-daughter of the king (jorg's dad) from his marriage to another woman after the first queen got murdered horribly. The only other woman of note I can think of is the dead queen and a sex worker that is treated like an idiot the whole time she's on screen. She and Jorg end up having sex anyway. It's gross.

Also. Racism. The only Black character is never given a real name and is consistently referred to by his race alone. He dies part way through the book (although he's still relevant a good while after) and is never given a proper name. And of course he was a slave and bandit and he's notable because apparently there aren't many other Black people in post-apoc Europe that aren't slaves??? Utterly bizarre. Do you have any idea how many Muslims live in France, as an example? Especially Black Muslims? Are you seriously telling me there wouldn't be ANY descendants of those people living as commoners in post-apoc Europe, even if not in what was once France specifically? Like, let's be generous and pretend that there aren't any Black nobility either because people are just THAT racist after the end of the world. Are you seriously saying there'd still be little to no free Black people around, at all? Are you stupid?

The fucking Asian character is treated better than this, and he's also a fucking slave whose been forced to be the wise old elder trying to teach Jorg about stuff and "put him on the right path" or w/e bs. But he at least has a name.

So overall I did not like this one, tbh. Even if there were a few things I did like a lot, there wasn't enough to keep me going other than the interesting setting twist and wanting to see how it ended. 3edgy5me, or whatever the meme was back in the late 2000s-early 2010s.

Would not rec.

2 - The Cat Who Saved Books by Sousuke Natsukawa

I liked this one a lot. 200+ pages, very short, but lots of warm feel-good with fantasy aspects to it as well. The different "worlds" where books were being treated badly were very interesting, and the different ways they were being treated badly was some good commentary on how people consume media. There were a lot of Western literary references which I didn't expect, but also since this was a translation and the author is Japanese I can see way, as part of the atmosphere of the book and playing into the protag's tastes and circumstances.

I was really interested in trying to learn what that last story the protag needed to confront was, because I wasn't sure who she was meant to represent, but it was probably more obvious in the original text and just couldn't be carried over to English well. I did like the whole "friends from past adventures coming to help the protag in his time of need" even if its a cliche, and there was just a lot of coziness to this one that I needed at the time I read it.

Loved this book. Would recommend.

3 - All Our Hidden Gifts by Caroline O'Donoghue

I admit, I picked this one up because it was from a publisher/imprint I'd never seen in store before and wanted to know what kind of stuff they published. The pretty art was also a selling point, as the setting in contemporary Ireand with Tarot stuff going on.

I wasn't sure if I'd like the protag at first, but I really did. Even with the rift between her and her childhood friend at the beginning and how it happened, I could really see why she did what she did, because I know that sort of thought process she had as she got older and wanted to "fit in" in her upper-class school. The fact she also ended up having to confront her privilege with how her family has far more means than most people was also a good part of her arc. I was also quite happy that she and her friend didn't make up right away at the end once the friend was saved, and that it was clear there was a long way to go between them.

The lore with the weird creepy card that started this whole mess was interesting, too. The fact that the spell the protag did was actually mutual on both her and her friend's part was an interesting touch I didn't expect--but it also makes sense? Especially with the foreshadowing that came after the incident with her having been seen willingly going with that manifestation of said card. The backstory about that other girl who stumbled upon that power but died without any help, and the fact that the nun(?) lady had all those news clippings in her car in the first place...those were good. The latter was touching, too, especially given the whole conflict against the religious cult.

Speaking of. Said religious cult. When the blurb says that this book touches on queer revolution, it's not joking around--this book goes fucking hard on the harm of anti-queer politics and what that religious cult is doing. The fact that the cult leader has magic also makes it even worse, considering he's manipulating people both with mundane tactics and literal fucking magic.

So uh. I wasn't in a great place to be reading that sort of thing when I got this, and with current politics I don't think I'll be able to read the next book any time soon either. But I did like this one a lot. Bonus points for the nonbinary character being amab, because--while I'm sure there's stuff out there--there's such a prevailing attitude of nonbinary being "femme lite" that it's so hard for me to find actual amab nonbinary rep. It's such a breath of fresh air. Like it shouldn't even be a thing that matters but...god, I need more amab nonbinary characters. Please.

Anyway. Great book. Goes hard. Would love to read the next one when I'm in a better headspace for it. Would recommend if you're in a good headspace for it.

4 - Never Coming Home by Kate Williams

It's And Then There Were None but if Fyre Festival. I was sold as soon as I read the blurb. I fucking love that idea and the And Then There Were None kind of mystery is like catnip to me. I loved that book when I first read it and I've been really into Agatha Christie-style mysteries in general. The recent Death on the Nile movie was loads of fun. I need to read more of her books and this helped scratch that murder-mystery itch I've been getting more into lately.

It's also good that the one actual big influencer was sus on everything from the start, precisely because most of these people were nobodies even in their own niche, by varying degrees from their helpfully-listed follower count in the beginning. Frankie Rus(s)h (the actual big influencer) only knows like, one person from an event they were both at and is very protective of her. Even so, she's still quite clearly flawed, and even a little selfish, and I like that.

The POVs all vary from chapter to chapter, as fitting the story its paying homage to. The way everyone's being taunted while they're trapped there at the same time they're getting picked off one-by-one is also nice psychological horror for those characters. Especially with the fact that the account for the event is updating with pictures of people that couldn't have been taken by any of them with riddle-like messages about who'll die next and how.

I also like that there was a character who was upfront about the thing they're guilty of right away. He knew he was the reason it happened, he did his time over it iirc, he made peace with his guilt and is fine with letting people know if it'll help figure out this mess. That's really good emotional maturity even if not everyone was as honest about their crimes as he was. Good stuff.

Now. Some problems.

That same character I don't feel was handled as great as he could've been. His whole thing is that he's a DJ, or at least was trying to make it as one, but ended up as more or less a drug dealer instead. I feel this would be fine if he were like, any other race but latino. Just...the drug dealer stereotype is too prevalent, especially with current politics, but I do applaud that the author tried to handle it as maturely as possible and made him far more nuanced than just a "druggie." He also didn't die first, and in fact lasted for a good while.

The alternating POVs between him and one other person right before his death was also good. Unreliable narrator clearly on display, with both of them being sure the other is the culprit in all of this. Tragic as all hell and really helps with the gut punch. Especially with how that other person died right after.

The only thing I was super confused about was the "explanation" part of the ending. It was framed as people theorizing online about it all (on reddit actually, I think) but I still didn't feel quite clear about the culprit's motivation for all of it. I might have to reread later to see if I can understand it better, but I do also know that scene was of the culprit literally trolling in order to try and dissuade people from thinking it was them.

Because they're still a public presence at the end and their family has been monetizing the shit out of the tragedy.

Yeah. Oof.

Still. Very good book. Loved it and it did the concept and homage justice. Would rec.

5 - The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner

Very interesting mystery, tbh. Contemporary/historical, with some people apparently having very YMMV feeling on how it was done. Personally I liked it a lot, the style and narration felt fitting. I really liked the emotional arcs of the characters, as well as the whole concept of an old herbalist going against her teachings in order to provide poison to women so that they can kill their husbands in an era where women didn't really have the ability to either divorce or else stop such people at all.

The relationship between the herbalist and the young girl was fun, and I really liked how the lady the girl was working for loved her like family. Enough to kill her husband so that he couldn't hurt the girl at all. The story with the modern-day historian was...less interesting tbh, mostly because for much of it I was worried it'd be more focused on the relationship drama with her cheating husband and their collapsing marriage more than it actually was. I wasn't super into the pregnancy scare plot either. But I did end up liking her side of the story more as the novel got further in.

It wasn't a super long novel either. Also in the 200+ page range. But the mystery/historical aspect was good, the modern characters not being able to get a full, conclusive idea of what happened in the past was good, and it was really fun watching the modern day historian do some breaking and entering in her search. fuck yeah, lady. trespass on private property to cope! fuck the police! lmao

Would recommend.

6 - So I'm a Spider, So What? #16 by Okina Baba

I liked most of it, up until the very end. The end ended up retroactively souring the rest of the book for me, if not the whole series. It was too abrupt, and the "epilogue" of 1-2 sentence paragraphs describing what happened to every character only made it worse. Especially given the fact that Sue is implied to be the one who "won" with Shun in the end, even though both volumes 15 and 16 make it explicitly clear she's not supposed to be seen in a good light with regards to her actions--starting from her rape attempt against Shun to how she selfishly inserts herself into the party of people meeting with the Demon Lord, and how that could very well have ended the world right then and there.

Like, Sue is not meant to be seen in anywhere near a positive light in volumes 15 and 16. She even keeps taking advantage of Shun's kindness even though he very firmly set boundaries with her, which is also presented as something negative, and yet she...somehow wins? Like, yeah, sure I am biased towards Katia. But Katia has also been pretty explicitly built-up as the "main" romantic interest for Shun since volume 1. Given the way Sue is treated/presented in the last few volumes, how she's been barely relevant for a majority of the series since volume 5, and with Katia being the obvious choice? It feels like a deliberate "fuck you." And it hurts. And it's honestly made me not want to go back and reread any of the series anymore for the parts I at least liked.

I've been wanting to write out a snippet/one-shot that sums up my feeling as to what should have been done with Sue since I had a chance to sit and process volume 16, but I can't even get myself to do that because of how sour it feels to even think about the ending. Even though I feel like it'd be cathartic to write such a fic. But I can't fucking get myself to do it. I knew people were saying the ending was bad, but I was really hoping it was people complaining for similar reasons as to why people didn't like vol 11-12 (aka, their reasoning was stupid).

But...no. They were right. The ending sucked. And I don't even know how to feel about the stupid series anymore. I don't even know if I want to have anything to do with it anymore.

And it hurts.

That's all I can say about this one.

7 - Hidden Pictures by Jason Rekulak

Loved this one. The way it was written, most people being genuinely nice and good, the possessed/haunted kid not being demonized? It was so good. It was something I needed when I picked it up. It took me a while to actually finish it, but the ending made me so happy I did. This book is horror, I should also mention, and the drawings periodically inserted into the story was a great touch.

As a side note: I was thinking to myself a few days ago how most of my experience with horror media has been indie games,* how a majority modern video games have an inherently visual element to them, and how House of Leaves--the only adult horror novel I'd read before picking up Hidden Pictures--also had a kind of visual element to it that most books lack. Obviously, most novels make up for the lack of visuals by invoking images in your head as you read the prose, such that you can still "see" things happening. House of Leaves, however, ends up taking it a step further by making the text itself a visual component, not just leaving it as "text" and relying on the reader's imagination.

I think, considering my tastes in horror media, it's not a surprise that the two adult horror books I've picked up--and loved--have had a visual component to them. I mean, the narratives themselves are compelling, don't get me wrong. The prose and story of both are phenomenal. I loved reading them as much as I enjoyed the "visual" aspects. But I noted that it was an interesting trend, considering.

But anyway. Loved Hidden Pictures. 100% would rec--especially to those who want something accessible to try and get into the horror genre with.

(*I also read a lot of horror manga/webtoons, but the sentence was long enough so I elected to include that down here. Either way, my point still stands re:my tastes in horror having a bent towards including some sort of visual aspect to the storytelling)

8 - My Next Life as a Villainess #6 by Satoru Yamaguchi

I tried getting back into Bakarina as a way of helping me out of a reading slump, wanting to read something easier to help ease me into reading in general (which worked, and was what helped me finish Hidden Pictures). I also bought another LN that I'll go on about down below to help with this. I liked...some of this one. But I was also feeling kind of sour by the end of it due to the way a certain character was handled.

To put it simply: there's a side character who is described in a way that more or less makes them a trans caricature. Super muscular, wears pretty dresses/frilly clothes, wants to be called by a feminine name, acts super feminine despite being repeatedly referred to as looking hypermasculine, etc. To top it off, her coworker insists in referring to her by her deadname. Everyone else treats her as a woman (including Katarina's narration), but this one guy doesn't. Consistently. To top it off, everyone's kind of creeped out and wary around this transwoman character, at least at first.

I will say, at the very least, in comparison to that male coworker who deadnames her the trans character is at least portrayed as competent at her job. She takes things seriously and is good at what she does. She also doesn't act creepy to the other characters, it's the other characters being creeped out by default and eventually warming up (which, isn't much better, but the bar is so low that it's still a step up). She's also very caring towards the other characters and wants to keep everyone safe. At the end, a different viewpoint character who the transwoman is giving a report to also takes her seriously and treats her as a woman, trusting her and knowing she's one of the better people in their organization (iirc. It's been a while since I've read all of these).

But none of this fully washed away the bitter taste I got from the way this character's appearance is so obviously meant as a joke/caricature. Especially in a time where I was already feeling down, and combined with how Kumoko's ending went it sucks even worse. Bakarina was/is another series I really enjoy--I've been keeping up with the fan translations of the manga releases and it's been nice to read something so comfy and light when I see there's been a new update. But now that I've read this volume, and now that the fan translation is getting into the content of this volume, it's been made sour for me too.

The plot was okay, I guess. I wasn't super fond of how mean one of the characters was to Katarina, although I understand why given his backstory. I liked Pochi getting a power-up and the others freaking out about it. But I felt thoroughly "meh" on basically everything and was disappointed with the stuff regarding that transwoman character.

I don't have anything super nice to say about this one, sorry. Moving on.

9 - I'm the Evil Lord of an Intergalactic Empire #1 by Yomu Mishima

Opposite to Bakarina, this one started out in a way that had me REALLY not want to read it, expecting the worst, and then turned my opinion around to a complete 180 as it went on.

I want to let you know, I've rarely ever had that happen to me. So I want to stress that this was actually good and funny, despite starting off on such an awful note. Like, I cannot understate how catastrophically the novel started out with regards to my expectations. I spotted a trope I don't like right away in the Table of Contents as one of the chapter titles, the full-color pages at the start being super super fanservicey, and the first chapter going into detail about how the reincarnated protagonist commissioned a big-tittied robot that had sexual capabilities programmed when he was a small child. And from there proceeding to grope said robot when she arrived, while still a small child.

And yet, it managed to redeem itself so well that I now consider it a favorite. I'm probably not going to buy any other volumes in the series, but I was actually laughing at some of the jokes at points. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a isekai manga that's actually funny? This LN started off so badly, but it managed to make me laugh. THIS KIND OF 108 NEVER. HAPPENS.

If you're wondering how it did that, then let me explain: first, it acknowledged several tropes common in isekai works (i.e., slave harems) as being a bad thing that will get people hating you and wanting you dead. The bar is so low but with the amount of works that don't manage to cross it, this was notable and improved my opinion just on its own. Then, the whole thing with the protag learning how to fight from a fraud because his brain is on anime and how what the guy was teaching him shouldn't actually be possible was incredibly funny. Failing upwards, and all that.

Then, this one older character being portrayed as incredibly pathetic and embarrassing for trying to do the honeypot thing. Too often, male teenage protags end up leaning into the gross pervert trope and let themselves go along with creepy fanservice no matter who it comes from. But this lady trying to seduce someone younger than her is shown as being embarrassing on her part, even humiliating that someone would even go that far. Again, this shouldn't be notable, but the fact that this LN was able to make such a point helped improve my opinion, because there's so many novels out there that can't even say that.

Then, when rescuing a bunch of people who've been held prisoner and traumatized (with heavy sexual connotations, even though nothing on-screen or outright is shown), the protag instead chooses to help them recover and even help them find places/jobs/etc. in his society instead of "mercy killing" them (which is something that happens far too often to victims of rape (or in this case, implied rape) in webnovels and such).

The fact that the bar is soooo fucking low but this novel manages to get all these things right? While managing to be actually funny at points alongside that? I genuinely can't believe the story pulled it off. It's insane.

Of course, the LN is not without its problems--there's still the way it started out, for instance. And there's other moments of unnecessary fanservice that doesn't happen to make a point like how that one scene with the honeypot does about it being dumb/pathetic/creepy/etc. There's also a bonus chapter in the back I felt was iffy, among other things.

But the fact it managed to turn my opinion around by this much? I think that counts for something. This one very much depends on whether or not you'll see the story the way I do by the end of it, so I can't give it a blanket rec, but if you're interested in trying it out? I'd say go for it. Just be aware that there's still stuff that's very much not great. I don't think people who aren't used to Weeb Ass Shit appearing in their anime/manga will like this one at all. So YMMV.

10 & 11 - Legends and Lattes by Travis Baldree & Elantris by Brandon Sanderson

Putting these two together because it's been long enough I only have a few thoughts for each.

Legends and Lattes was nice and cozy. The stakes where actually higher than I expected re: the mafia thing or whatever, but that did get resolved without too much struggle, so that was nice. People being nice to each other and working together to make coffee and pastries. It's something I needed, and I'm glad I read it. Would rec.

Elantris was very obviously a debut novel. It didn't read as well as Mistborn did, the plot moved way too slowly for my tastes, and it hit kind of hard in places that I didn't want to be hit hard in. I get that it was setting up a sequel hook at the end, but for a standalone there were too many questions left unsolved. I get why, but even so, I wasn't super fond of this one. I remember wanting to see the noble ladies actually get to use the sword skills they were being taught but I feel like I remember that not happening. Would have to reread to double check.

I did at least like the political maneuvering, and I liked that the prince was able to reunite with his wife. I liked the organizing and faction conflict within the walled-off Elantris, too. But everything else was kind of...aggressively meh. I will say it treated its characters of color better than Prince of Thorns, though. They at least all get names and are treated as equals.

I think that's all the reviews. This took forever to sit down and write up but I got it done at least?

Currently reading Empire of Sand by Tasha Suri, am planning to read The Blade Itself by Joe Abercrombie after. Beyond that? We'll see.

[a-foray-into-magic]

Dueling Loss.

The day had started off with Bellatrix having a row with her father Cygnus. She'd just been getting her bag ready so she could return back to Hogwarts for the remainder of her seventh and final year. She had known this wasn't going to go well, as Cygnus approached and wanted to speak to her alone. "I would like you to distance yourself from Rodolphus." "I beg your pardon?" "I am having second thoughts. The Lestrange name bound to ours...it would be seen as stepping down. He isn't fit for us. The family deserves better. Surely you see the issue, my dear." Bellatrix set her bag down, listening. The desire to laugh was strong. But she refrained from it as it wasn't a laughing matter. "It's always the 'family'. Never me. You don't give a proper shit what I want, do you? Well, I don't give a damn what's good for the family this time. I want what's good for me and I'm not going to distance myself." She didn't say she loved him. If she did, Cygnus would undoubtedly break them up. Those were words that were foreign to her father. If Cygnus and Druella were hit by the Hogwarts Express, she would not have cared. She imagined herself as the one pushing them in front of the speeding train if she was honest. But she did not speak of how she felt for Rodolphus, not to anyone, though Cissy had an idea. The words had barely escaped her mouth when his fists came at her. Bella's mind went elsewhere as she took the beating. She could very well have hexed him. She could have cast protego to shield herself. She was an excellent witch. She didn't need anyone to tell her this. She was confident in her abilities. However, to use said skills on her father would be a death warrant. And if she were thrown out, who would take the brunt of the hits for Andie and Cissa during the summer holiday? Instead, she simply thought of other things. Other places. The only motion she made was to look at her watch. "I have to get the train," she finally spoke, her sides and core aching. He would never mark her face and let everyone know he beat his daughters. Rather, Bella at the very least. Grunting under her breath, Bellatrix lifted her bag and apparated to King's Cross. Seeing Rodolphus there, she approached, leaving him unaware that she'd just received a fierce beating over him. Instead, she spoke of their match at Duelling Club later on that day with great enthusiasm. Later That Day: Stepping up onto the dais, Bellatrix grinned as Rodolphus joined her. Standing back to back, they took the requisite paces before turning around. Allowing him to send out the first spell, she easily blocked it, returning fire--quite literally--with incendio! Bellatrix was enjoying the duel until the pain in her sides began to really ache. She could manage. She'd have to. They were nearly done. A few more minutes and she'd finish Rodolphus off, and the next match would begin. But as she felt a stabbing pain, Bellatrix realised something was quite wrong. To the point where she didn't block or counter and Rodolphus's curse hit her squarely in her chest and belly, knocking her to the ground. The witch didn't even care that she was going to lose. There was something wrong with her. How could she say so though? Her father would have her head if she mentioned the beatings. The one time that she did, he'd said she was 'given to delusions for attention'.

He was untouchable, and she was suffering for it.

The room went silent as they all stared, wondering if she was going to get up. Her perfect record was broken. It seemed impossible to believe. Bellatrix attempted to push herself up, but the pain was excruciating and she could barely breathe. The silence was finally broken by the sound of heavy footfalls approaching her, and then with soft apologies as Rodolphus lifted her. "N-no…" She pleaded with him. "Shhh." She didn't have the energy to further protest, instead remaining silent as he began to carry her to the hospital wing. "Open the bloody doors," Rodolphus demanded of an awestruck second year. "Duelling Club is done for the day, obviously. Bellatrix is ill." As soon as the doors were open, he moved swiftly through the school, cursing at the moving sets of stairs and curious eyes falling upon them. Bella was indifferent to it all as she lay in his arms. Perhaps she'd die, and be past the irritation of living. As soon as the thought entered her head, she thought of her sisters and pushed it out.

"I need help please!" Rodolphus called as they entered the hospital wing. The nurse blinked before motioning to an open bed where he lay her down with great care. "What happened?"

"We were at duelling club, but there's something wrong. I hit her with a single blast, but that's nothing to her usually. "

Madame Coughlin, a strong Irish witch in a little frame, shook her head. "What curse?" "Just a single defensive blast from my wand." The young wizard replied, before leaning in to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said brought two flushed spots to the nurse's ear and she brushed her hands over Bella's sides. As she did so, the young witch groaned. She could have screamed, but she held that back.

"I need the Skelegro. Miss Black, lay down!" Bellatrix grunted. She'd rather have broken ribs than a taste of the wretched stuff. She could smell it as the nurse opened it, making her ill. Any medicine that came out of a bottle steaming ought to be banned. Bellatrix felt Rodolphus take her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. He was trying to comfort her. He really was too good for her and her family. She sighed, opening her mouth and taking a sip, nearly spitting it out. It was the vilest thing and it burned going all the way down.

"You're safe here, Miss Black. Please rest," Madame Coughlin urged her. "Mr. Lestrange, you have to go now."

Rod looked down at her and Bella nodded. "Go take your victory lap," she murmured as the nurse gave her a sleeping draught.

When she awoke the following day, there were flowers from Cissa beside her on the table, and chocolate frogs from Andie. Beside her though, in a chair sat a tired Rodolphus.

"The winner!" she smirked, watching his face change as he registered that she was awake. Raising her hand to his lips, he shook his head. "No. You weren't in any condition to fight, my sweet Bella." "Take the win." "No. Now, what did you and your father fight about this time?" "I don't want to talk about this." "Bellatrix." His voice was soft, but firm. He wasn't going to let her off easily and she sighed.

"He said…he regretted putting us together. That….you aren't good enough for the Black family. I told him I didn't care what was good for the family and that you only had to be good enough for me." Bella's heavily lidded eyes fixed on his face. He had to know that he meant something to her now if she was brazen enough to state it to her father. "After he so eloquently told me what he thought about that…" She sighed. "It was time for me to get to King's Cross. I didn't realise how badly I was hurt. I've had broken ribs before. Madame Coughlin says I need another night in here, as she wants to make sure everything has healed up alright. At least I don't need more Skelegro."

Hurt was written on Rodolphus's face. His name was nearly as respected as Black within their world. They were purebloods with a long history. And considering that his parents were of a similar mind as her own, they were a fine match. Bella couldn't really imagine being stuck with anyone else. Merlin knew she wasn't easy to deal with and he did so without question or hesitation. He knew how to calm her rages down, and he understood what it was to live with overbearing parents who dictated every thought and action in their lives. He defended her when some were brave enough to dare insult her. But as his dark eyes met her own, the expression melted away. It was as if he realised what she'd said. That she had stood up for him. And not only had she stood up for him, but she had also made it clear that her mind would not be changed no matter what her father wanted. Bella had chosen him, as he had done for her time after time. She watched him quietly, her hand still in his. It was only a year and a half more until they were free to do as they liked. Break away from the chains that were their families. It would be a glorious day. But for now, they had this. They had Hogwarts, and they would manage.

[megiesposts]

Hii I was wondering if I could request yandere hcs for silas?? (tvd)

Silas Yandere Headcannons

Tw//: mentions of violence, talk about blood, talk about sex and sexual acts

- silas met you completely by chance

- you weren’t even apart of the gang

- you just showed up at the boarding house to get those math notes back from elena

- silas was there by chance by fate

- the moment he saw you he knew you were meant to be his

- I mean 2000+ years in a coma and you the girl he meet when he gets out

- he creeps up and you first until you turn around and literally fall on your ass because he scared you so bad

-he caught you tho

- every since he’s been breaking into your house whenever he pleased to hang out with you

- he wants your feelings about him to be real- however if he seems to be failing he’s not exactly against fucking with your mind to get you head over heals in love with him

- you actually were getting used to his presence though

- he brought you all types of gifts

- he stole a car cause you once complained to your friend that your feet hurt from walking so much

- he’s constantly sneaking into bed with you

- he likes how you fight back against him when he tries to hold you, because you only last so long until you give up and just lean into his arms

- your first kiss with him was when you were crying because you had a really shitty day

- the gang was making your life hell at school because silas liked you and that was apparently your fault

- he kissed you until you stopped crying and started moaning

- you had pulled away and said u didn’t want to do that kind of thing yet- oddly enough he respected that

- he makes a lot of sexual jokes/hints/comments

- he leaves a lot of small touches and grabs you a lot

- he’s so possessive it’s scary

- if someone flirts with you he’ll literally control them to carve their own heart out

- in public

- and give it to you

- he’s serious like he will carve out someone’s heart and send it to the sheriff if it means that people will get the hint that you are his

- when he compells the town then he will force everyone to treat you like royalty

- you asked him chill it out cause it was embarrassing and he got you a literal princess crown

- when u tried to get rid of it he got you a crown that a queen wears

- he gets so angry if you say no to him

- will literally lock you away for his eyes only

- he is so happy to be around you that he tries to spend as much time with you as possible

- Klaus was trying to go against silas so he kidnapped you and you got hurt- it wasn’t anything major but you scrapped your knee and klaus almost drank your blood

- silas went bat sh|t insane

- he went after the whole original family and got in their heads with fake white oak stakes

- he recused you and that’s the first time you had sex

- he needed everyone to make sure you were his so he marked up almost every inch of his skin

- he gets very degrading when he thinks your doing something against his better judgement

- in his eyes you his queen but he’s the king - therefore he is better than you

- but you are better than anybody else - besides him

- he’s very manipulative

- he has this thing where he wants you to be confident but listen and do anything he says

- he’s very controlling and tries - and succeeds to get you to do everything you do

- he going into your mind when he’s in the mood and forces you into it too

- he’ll erase happy memories with other people to make sure you know he’s the only one who can make you happy

- he kills you before the gang kills him

- very much if I can’t have you then nobody can

- you’ll find peace but he’ll be in hell

- I think this is good but idk I haven’t written yandere headcannons in a while

[unpretty]

askdump with spoilers up to chapter 22! but also including some older ones because i keep forgetting

bramblepatch asked:

I LOVE the implication that the answer to Minnow's "cool, I wonder why there would be a door here?" is that Vaelon decided "cool, let's put a door here." Heroes Just Wanna See Cool Shit.

being able to set your own fast travel markers is the dream

@apparently-possessed asked:

I can't believe no one has commented on how Karzarul has the gall to call the Abysscale erotica scandalous. You made them to have sex with sailors you horny buffoon. You go off and find them in

Groups for frustrated sex.

No excuse my dude. They have always been the horny monster.

that was a PRIVATE INTERLUDE between a monster and several different ships worth of sailors and also sometimes other monsters and someone was INDISCREET which is RUDE and he would not have invited them if he'd known they would snitch

also tbh he was mostly offended by the implication that he was some kind of monster bimbo

anonymous asked:

"Monsters that are just slime orbs would have implications" yes, because the entire design and origin of Abysscales is completely without implications.

i find those implications less distressing tbh

@bramblepatch asked:

On rereading the last couple of chapters: as tragic as Vaelon's wish binding them all together is, it kind of seems like it might not be all bad for the world around them? Lynette already had her blessing at that point and I feel like a Sunlight Heir who didn't have that kind of persistent connection to the Hero and Monster would have the potential to go waaaay off the rails a lot more often than Heirs do anyway. Karzarul might be the one blatantly causing problems on most cycles, but having him and the Hero active when the Heir comes to power at least keeps them focused on their reincarnation bullshit...

you cannot deny that the hero does try to stop them from killing each other and also everyone else

he never said he'd succeed

@spinachwrap asked:

BIGGEST BOY It took me til chapter 20 to understand how Violet and the boys showed up and I about yelled. New! Monsters!!!

@asimovsideburns asked:

Sorry I’m just thinking about Astielle again and most if not all of Ari’s humanoid forms being at least partly imitative of someone he likes (and the others being made of what he thinks they’ll like) because moonlight is a reflection

@ephemeraltea asked:

part of what i love so much about your writing, particularly noticeable in astielle, is that you take a silly or off-hand thing and make it have true depth and emotional weight. like. collect one of everything from this open world video game. but for minnow, it's proof that she has desires outside of previous lives, that her experiences are not just slowly pixelating copies of things she's done before. this flower, i know i've seen it as me, because i have it pressed and saved at home. i have a memory of it that is only mine. and that fucking gets me!!!!

anonymous asked:

Karzarul getting all huffy about monsters naming themselves after descriptors *shakes my head* This is a TRADITION OF YOUR PEOPLE carried out EVEN TO THIS DAY *gestures to Violet who is... violet* I don't want to hear anything from you on the topic Mr. Beautiful.

anonymous asked:

RE: Karzarul getting huffy. It's probably influenced by the little Vaelon voice in the back of his head repeating "But that isn’t really a name..." over and over again, but still. I don't want to hear it from you, Mr. Beautiful!

anonymous asked:

Just from the way Karzarul responds to being told Elias died of being old with an Unconvinced Hm™ it seems like he knows about the immortality thing. But maybe they DO start aging after one (or more) of them dies?

@ceruleanvulpine asked:

RETURN OF “I WANT YOU WHATEVER YOULL GIVE ME” AHHHH

anonymous asked:

MA'AM. MA'AM HOW COULD YOU. I can't believe you did this to us VAELON NO

listen. i did it to myself also.

@punkpixieprince asked:

god even when I KNEW how it ended I still cried SO MUCH. I'm still crying right NOW. I imagined it in so many ways but honestly knowing it was an accident, that even after everything he killed her on accident, just really... destroyed me a little.

anonymous asked:

Vaelon: If I like everything *just the right amount* and not too much, then I won't want to commit suicide when it's gone. FORTUNATELY, I only have one person that applies to. And EXTRA fortunately she is now immortal. ... UNFORTUNATELY, there are now TWO people. EXTRA unfortunately, they are now trying to kill each other.

it turns out having gratitude-based cbt and existential nihilism as your religion has its limits as a depression treatment when literally no one around you has ever noticed that's what you're doing

anonymous asked:

What Vaelon Says: I don’t want any of us to be alone. What Vaelon Means: I don't want to be alone, and I don't mind leaving Karzarul alone if it means I can avoid being without one of the two people I can't live without.

vaelon has always vastly overestimated the extent to which karzarul wandered off to hang out with the many cool new monster friends his mom made him, and who he never wanted to introduce him to

anonymous asked:

Excited about the first mention of Moon priests. Also enjoy having my personal belief that the Sun priests are insufferable validated. Vaelon is STILL the only Void priest in evidence, ever. Understandable, seems like a difficult calling. *imagines poor little deluded Star priests running around in modern times being VERY WRONG*

anonymous asked:

They get a little mark on their hand to show who killed who? Does that work with people not-them? Did Leland wander around with a little sun on his hand from killing all the heirs? Is that how he's been telling everyone HE's the heir??? Did it happen to some random guardsman the first time and then Leland murdered him to try and get it himself? *chanting* Mark of Cain, Mark of Cain!

anonymous asked:

Idk if I should be happy or devastated for predicting what would happen for the most part in chapter 21 and 22. But also wth the sun on his hand???? Where are those terms and heckin conditions please tell me those were as immutable as the weapons

anonymous asked:

That Lynette died with her left hand clean makes me feel violent emotions. How many? Monsters with Vaelon’s face and deaths that Karzarul could feel. Enough to get used to it. She waited until he said he wasn’t connected to them. She spat monster like a slur. Sun circle advisors whispered in the ear of a woman who’d asked to be able to commit atrocities that her empire was the world. You’re too good at this, I don’t know if I can recover.

(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

anonymous asked:

Yeah, Lynette. You never asked for help, AND THAT'S THE PROBLEM.

anonymous asked:

“Why is it always my fault?” That's a very valid question, Karzarul. I can't think of any time the other two attempted to accommodate you, other than Vaelon mentioning he started helping people because he knew it bothered you, or him taking you back to the lake when you were in visible physical distress. Even when you hadn't done anything to cross her empire, when the only thing you'd taken from her was a small amount of Vaelon's attention, Lynette blamed you.

anonymous asked:

“Of all the fucking things you could have done, You made a new one. Another fucking monster, with his face. Do you think that’s going to stop me? Or do you think you’re proving something, making me kill him? Having to see his face, again and again and again, every time I kill one of those fucking things? His face, staring back at me, every fucking time and now you’ve made another one." ...Not everything is about YOU Lynette.

anonymous asked:

I loved learning that Vaelon designed Karzarul's moon/bug motifs.

anonymous asked:

Gaslight (Karzarul about things being his fault), Gatekeep (Karzarul away from Vaelon because if you can't have him *the way you want him* nobody can have him), Girlboss (of an empire that is actually only negatively impacting your mental health and it would be better for you to ditch that gig)

karzarul just hated to see a girlboss winning 😔

[wowbright]

Fic: Your Heart’s Been Aching

Klaine/CC Valentine's Challenge: Day 14 prompt song, Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley

Words: ~10,600 words

Rating: Mature

Summary: Kurt has an explicit dream, Blaine gets sick, and new converts just keep coming their way.

A vignette in my Mormon!Klaine universe. This one takes place right after Flat Tire.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (Start with that if you’re new, not this.)

Notes: (1) Thanks to @gleefulpoppet for the beautiful mockup of Kurt’s consecrated oil vial! (2) Thank to everyone who answered my question about where Holly Holliday attended college! (3) I included a reference to every single line of the prompt. Some of the references are exact quotes, some of them are close, and in a few cases … you’ll see. (4) Mature because sexual fantasies, self-exploration, and shame. (5) Warning: a character gets sick to his stomach. (6) As always, I welcome questions, typo identification, feedback on German spelling/grammar, and encouragement!

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

Kurt’s blessings just kept multiplying. At the bike shop, they got to talking with the mechanic, a French guy with prosthetic thumbs. He tolerated Kurt’s attempts to practice French with him, and was intrigued by the fact that kids their age were tooling around Ingolstadt in full suits—which opened the door to talking about the church.

Henri St. Pierre, as his name turned out to be, had somehow never met a Mormon missionary before. But he was intrigued by the idea that they had scriptures in addition to the Bible, and was stoked when they offered to leave him a copy of the Book of Mormon.

“Do they have this in French, too? I can read German, but it’s not as natural to me.” Henri asked, flipping through the pages. Kurt had marked the story about the Anti-Nephi-Lehis burying their weapons of war when Henri had mentioned his pacifist leanings, and the part about the Nephites and Lamanites sharing all things in common because of his socialist ones.

“Of course!” Elder Anderson said excitedly. “We have some French copies back in our apartment. We could drop one off your next shift?”

Henri genuinely lit up at the offer.

God truly didn't care what Kurt got up to in the shower, apparently.

“And here, for your bikes.” Henri jogged over to a large wooden workbench and opened up a drawer from the plastic hardware chest, withdrawing two small slips of paper. “You wouldn’t get this from any other guy at the shop.” He handed one slip to each of the missionaries. Kurt realized they weren't paper; they were stickers of bulbous-nosed characters from a comic book that he'd seen on newsstands: one short man with yellow hair and a winged helmet, and an enormous shirtless man in blue-and-white striped pants and orange braids.

“Who are these guys?” Elder Anderson asked.

“You don't know Asterix and Obelix?” asked Henri in horror.

“I've seen them around. But—” Kurt thought about how to phrase this. It didn't make for good proselytizing to tell people that you weren't allowed to read anything but scriptures and church publications. He'd made that mistake early in his mission, and it tended to freak investigators out. Their next question usually was Are you a cult? “I've never seen this comic in the United States.”

“What childhoods Americans must have,” Henri said. Kurt couldn't tell if he was joking or sincere. “It’s just silly stories about Gauls fighting against the Roman Empire with the help of magic. Read it, and you will understand Europe.”

Elder Anderson literally skipped next to his bike as they made their way back to the path. “Three new investigators already this afternoon! I never knew a tire blowout could be such a blessing. What do you think we should do with those stickers, though? I don't want to disappoint Henri and not put them on the bikes, because then he might notice the next time we come to see him. But we are supposed to keep them looking professional.”

“I'm not saying I condone this behavior, but I knew a missionary once who had an entire collection of vinyl stickers on the underside of his bicycle crossbeam,” Kurt said. “None of us even knew they were there until it was time for him to go back to the States and he had to spend the evening peeling them off one by one so he could sell it to the next missionary coming along.”

Elder Anderson grinned. “I like that. Like making your own private museum collection that only you know about. Everyone should be allowed to have a harmless secret like that.”

Kurt was glad Elder Anderson thought so, and when it came time to shower that night, Kurt was tempted to once again enjoy the benefits afforded by his companion’s blithe endorsement of personal privacy. But he had told himself, prior to his successful experiment, that he couldn’t immediately jump into doing it every single day. The act should be functional, not self-indulgent. And though this type of restraint might not keep every wet dream away—he'd been averaging five a week lately, which was just insane—he wanted to err on the side of caution.

His caution was not rewarded. By Murphy’s Law, Kurt had another wet dream that night. It started out benignly. The skylight was stuck and Elder Anderson, instead of standing on the bed, got the idea that Kurt should hoist him up. Only he didn't let Kurt hoist him. He started climbing him like a tree, wrapping his legs around Kurt and shimmying up with full body thrusts.

“This isn’t working,” Kurt said.

“Yes, it is,” said Elder Anderson, thrusting again.

“It’s not.”

“Don’t tell me you’re too blind to see.”

Suddenly, Kurt saw.

And then they were kissing, hard and desperate, and they were in Elder Anderson's bed, his warm body moving beneath Kurt’s, his legs wrapped tight around Kurt’s waist, his mouth murmuring sweet words, his pelvis thrusting, thrusting, thrusting.

Kurt was thrusting, too, but he couldn't tell whether he was thrusting against Elder Anderson or inside him. Not that it mattered. Elder Anderson was moaning and begging and dragging his fingernails down Kurt’s back and telling him how good he felt, his body and his cock and his everything. “I’ve gotta make you understand, Elder Hummel,” and with a sharp thrust Kurt was definitely inside him, everything so tight and hot, and Elder Anderson falling apart beneath him—“My heart’s aching, my heart’s been aching for you, Kurt, fix it, please”—and now they were somehow upright again, reaching for the skylight, and kissing, kissing, with teeth and tongue, and Elder Anderson spearing himself desperately onto Kurt’s erection. “Harder,” he murmured. “Harder, Kurt. Then we’ll reach the light.”

At least Kurt had been sleeping on his back when he came. His sheet didn't get wet, just his garments, which he stripped off and washed in the bathroom sink at 2 a.m.

Kurt’s priesthood leaders had always reassured him that he should never feel guilty for those dreams. And he didn’t, necessarily. The problem came when they seeped into his waking hours, when Kurt was standing in the bathroom with his soiled garments and still thinking about his companion's legs wrapped tightly around him and the bliss of being inside his body.

Kurt woke up groggy and crabby in the morning, and the day went downhill from there. If one were to judge proselytizing success on a scale of zero to ten, their morning felt like a negative seven. Their first appointment was with an itinerant investigator whose progress had been slow, but always forward. Today, however, before they even got to the prayer, he'd presented the missionaries with a ten-page handout on his investigations into church history. “I've decided not to get baptized, and this is why,” he said. “It's not personal. You've always been very kind to me, and I hope this information will help you the way it's helped me.”

After leaving, Kurt dropped it into the first recycling bin he could find.

“Elder Hummel, he worked hard on that!”

“And I've worked hard on my testimony. I won’t let some random investigator destroy it.”

“‘If we have the truth, it cannot be harmed by investigation. If we have not the truth, it ought to be harmed.’ J. Reuben Clark, apostle and first counselor.”

“Prophets sometimes speak as men,” Kurt answered crankily. He didn't have the energy to deal with new truth right now. He'd already been served up way too much of it in his dream the previous night. Sometimes a person just needed a break, an opportunity to float in their existing understanding before they reached for their next revelation.

They decided to do some dooring on the way to Henri’s bike shop. Somewhere around the second block, long before any missionary had a right to start wearing out, Elder Anderson began complaining about a “a mild stomachache” and kept wistfully declaring how a piece of gum would be the perfect thing to settle it.

“It might be,” Kurt snapped at the fourth mention of gum—possibly because he had been craving it on and off for almost twice as long as Elder Anderson had been a missionary. “But you know the rules and so do I. No gum.”

Instead of getting upset, Elder Anderson looked grateful for the reminder. “You're right. There's no point in lamenting about it. I'll grab some ginger ale on our way home if it's still bugging me by then.”

They were just half a block from the bike shop when Elder Anderson looked into his bag and went pale. “I grabbed the wrong one.”

“Wrong what?”

Elder Anderson pulled a Book of Mormon out of his bag. “I grabbed an Italian one, not a French one.”

Kurt let out a huff of annoyance. The day had been a complete waste so far, and now they had to waste more time by going back to the apartment to get the right scriptures for Henri. At least he wasn't expecting them at a specific hour.

“I’m so sorry, Elder Hummel.” Elder Anderson’s expression was like that of a puppy who had been scolded. “I never want to let you down.”

Kurt softened. “We’ve all made mistakes, Elder Anderson. We’ll just hurry as fast as we can back to the apartment and then come back here.”

Kurt tried to set a speedy pace, but Elder Anderson was dragging. The paleness that had washed over him when he’d realized he had the wrong Book of Mormon never quite left him. His skin looked sallow and ashen, even at the end of their ten-minute ride home and a walk up five flights of stairs. “It’s okay, Elder Anderson. Really. It's just a little more running around than we planned to do. But we're still fairly on schedule. We haven’t deserted Henri.”

“It’s not that,” Elder Anderson said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think I have food poisoning.”

*

Blaine ran to the bathroom just in time for the entire contents of his stomach to land in the toilet.

“Elder Anderson? Elder Anderson!” Elder Hummel appeared in the doorway, his face wrinkled in concern.

“No,” Blaine muttered. Elder Hummel couldn't see him this way. He couldn't see what Blaine had just emptied into the toilet. He reached for the handle, but his arm suddenly felt like jelly and collapsed next to him before he could manage to flush the toilet.

It was so embarrassing. He was sitting on the bathroom floor with puke and tears on his face—because throwing up never didn’t make Blaine cry for some weird reason—and Elder Hummel was looking right at the whole mess.

Elder Hummel flushed the toilet without inspecting too closely, thank goodness. “I'm not going to ask you if you're okay, because clearly you're not—”

Oh, no. There was more. How could there be more? Blaine couldn’t tell Elder Hummel to go away because his esophagus was pressing too hard into his windpipe and—

He puked again.

“Oh, honey.” Elder Hummel kneeled next to Blaine on the floor and rubbed his back. “It’s okay. Get it out.”

Blaine could only nod his head and pitch forward again for one final hurrah. He heaved until nothing else came out. It was so gross. He was so gross. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, trying to crawl away from his companion.

Elder Hummel grabbed him and reeled him in, offering his shoulder as a place for Blaine to rest his head. “Don’t say that, please. you're sick. Here, can you sit up on your own for a second?”

“I think so?”

Elder Hummel guided Blaine to lean against the wall, then got up and reached into the IKEA shelf unit under the sink for a washcloth. He wetted it under the faucet. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, lowering himself to one knee and pressing the washcloth to Blaine’s face, wiping his disgusting mouth clean.

Apparently, Blaine must have muttered something to that effect, because, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, elder,” were the next words out of Elder Hummel's mouth. “If anyone should be embarrassed, it's me. I clearly wasn't reading the signs. I should have been paying closer attention to you.”

“I didn't think it was this bad. Not until we were almost home.”

“Well, now we both know what’s been going on with you today. Next time you pine after gum three times in a row, I'll know it's an emergency.”

Blaine let out a weak laugh.

*

It was a struggle getting Elder Anderson to bed. He was woozy and needed to be half-dragged, half-carried to the bedroom, and he barely had the strength to undress himself. Kurt had to help with his jacket and tie and even the buttons on his shirt—though, fortunately, he was able to manage his own pants, which he wriggled out of unceremoniously and dropped to the floor.

Now he was in nothing but his garments, which were damp with sweat. At least they were the wicking kind and would dry out on their own soon enough, so they wouldn't give Elder Anderson chills. The last thing Kurt wanted to worry about was helping his companion change his garments. Things were already bad enough. His companion was sick and weak, and Kurt nonetheless had to remind himself not to look at the bulge in the shorts and compare it to what he had felt sometimes in in his dreams, or the dark patch of private hair made visible by sweat.

“I should have let you have that gum,” Kurt lamented as he tucked Elder Anderson into bed. It was a relief to have the garments covered up.

“I don't think it would have helped.”

“Still.” Kurt patted the sheets snugly around his companion’s chest. “I shouldn't have snapped at you. You never complain. I should have known something was wrong.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Elder Anderson took Kurt’s hand and clasped it gently to his chest. “If there's anything to forgive, I've already forgiven you.”

With his free hand, Kurt stroked his companion’s hair back from his forehead. It was damp from sweat, but Elder Anderson didn't feel feverish. “How are you feeling now, anyway?”

“I think whatever was bothering my stomach is gone now. My digestion doesn't feel weird anymore. I'm just tired. And maybe a little thirsty.”

“I'll get you some water. Or diluted apple juice. Do you like that?”

Elder Anderson nodded solemnly. “That would be nice.”

Kurt moved to get up, but Elder Anderson held tight to his hand. “Kurt?”

Kurt should really tell Blaine not to call him that. It wasn’t P-day. But Blaine was sick and vulnerable, and Kurt didn't have the heart to correct him. “Yeah?”

Elder Anderson looked shyly at their joined hands. “Could I get a blessing, too?”

Something in Kurt’s chest went all fluttery and soft. “Of course.”

*

Kurt couldn't have been gone for more than a few minutes, but Blaine had already started to drift off by the time he returned. He blinked his eyes open at the sound of his companion’s familiar footsteps and smiled. “It’s you.”

“Who else would it be?” said Kurt, his voice as gentle and sweet as if he were singing a lullaby.

“I'm just glad it's you.” Blaine had felt so awful earlier, but now his heart felt warm. Kurt was so kind. Blaine should still feel embarrassed and like he was a burden for being sick, but Kurt made him feel like he was good and special and deserved to be taken care of.

“Here, let's see if you can sit up a little and have a sip, and then I'll give you your blessing.” Kurt sat down on the bed next to Blaine and propped him up, letting Blaine use him as a backrest, and held the cup to his lips. The cold, watered-down apple juice and the solidity of Kurt’s body felt like a balm.

A blessing of healing wasn't the same as a blessing of comfort and counsel. It had a more singular focus. But it still felt personal, being dabbed with the oil and with Kurt’s hands resting on his head. Blaine wished Kurt would put his hands there more often, not just when Blaine was getting a blessing or when Spinnenkatze moved back next door.

Kurt blessed Blaine with vigor and strength, with patience to heal, with wisdom to listen to his own body.

There was something about those words: “wisdom to listen to your own body.” They felt much bigger than this one illness. Blaine hadn't listened well to his own queasy stomach this afternoon; if he'd been paying better attention, he would have known it was bad as soon as he'd started whining for gum. And it felt to Blaine like maybe this was a pattern, though he couldn't put his finger on why. He just got the sense that ignoring himself, ignoring his discomfort, ignoring what his body was trying to tell him—these were old habits of his, so ingrained that he didn't even recognize them.

Patience, too—everyone thought Blaine was patient, but it wasn't true. He could be patient with cats and investigators and little children, but when it came to himself, he got so frustrated sometimes. He hated to disappoint other people, and when he failed them, he got so angry at himself for not being the man he ought to be, for not having progressed as far in the gospel as he would need to by the time he got to heaven. It was silly. He was only nineteen. He couldn't be perfect. But for some reason, he felt like he was supposed to be, that any failure meant he wasn't working hard enough or being valiant enough. He didn't give himself the same grace that he extended to others, and that he knew in his heart of hearts his Savior was willing to extend to him.

“In the name of Jesus Christ, amen,” Kurt said, and lifted his hands from Blaine’s head.

God had spoken to Blaine so perfectly through his companion. His perfect, worthy companion, so in tune with the Spirit and helping Blaine feel closer to it every day. “I love you, Kurt.”

Kurt smiled—that special smile he saved for when they were alone together, in private, in the presence of the Spirit. It was sweet, compassionate, and vulnerable, and it was only for Blaine. “I love you, too, Blaine.” He held Blaine’s gaze for a long moment, then patted his shoulder and stood up to go.

That was wrong. Kurt shouldn't go away. Kurt had blessed Blaine to listen to his body, and Blaine was listening, and what his body wanted now was warmth and security and comfort—the warmth of that smile made tangible. “Wait.”

“What, honey?”

Blaine’s heart warmed. Maybe he should be sick more often. Kurt had only ever called him that once before today, but today he had said it twice. It made Blaine feel all squishy inside and a little woozy, but not bad woozy like he got from throwing up. Good woozy, like you got from being on a tilt-a-whirl or rolling down a hill. “I haven’t gotten my bedtime hug yet.”

Kurt turned slowly around. “It’s not bedtime.” He pointed at the sunbeam streaming in through the skylight.

“It is for me.”

Kurt scowled at Blaine, but he didn't really seem annoyed. He returned to the bed, sitting down on its edge and leaning over to take Blaine into his arms. He tucked his chin over Blaine’s shoulder and his hands made soothing motions over the back of Blaine’s ribcage.

But Blaine had a hard time enjoying it. He kept worrying about the moment Kurt would pull away and say goodbye. I bless you with the wisdom to listen to your own body. “Stay?” Blaine said.

It was the wrong thing to say, because Kurt pulled away, his back ramrod straight. “Do you want me to sit with you?”

Blaine shook his head. He felt too shy to say it. He tugged the edge of his comforter, lifting it up. “I’m cold,” he said. “Keep me warm?”

Kurt gave him a worried look. “I should take your temperature.” And then he did the absolute worst thing possible, which was get up from the bed altogether and leave the room.

He was back half a minute later, but still. Blaine felt Kurt’s absence as surely as he felt the ache in his head.

“Open your mouth.”

Blaine obliged.

“Thirty-seven point five,” Kurt read the thermometer after the beeper went off. “You’re a little feverish. Not terrible, though. Do you want a Tylenol?”

Blaine shook his head pitifully. “I'd have to swallow it.”

Kurt looked at Blaine, and then at the thermometer, and then at the blanket that was still ruffled from Blaine having lifted it up earlier. “Oh, fine.”

He kicked off his shoes and took off his jacket and undid his tie. Blaine thought he saw a little blush form on Kurt’s cheeks, but it was probably because he was sitting directly in the path of the sunbeam coming in through the skylight.

Blaine turned on his side so they could both fit in the tiny twin bed. He felt the mattress sink under Kurt’s weight when he sat down on it. He reached behind him to take Kurt’s hand, guiding him to lie down, pulling his arm over him like a blanket, tucking their hands over his chest. He could feel his heart beating against Kurt’s loose fist.

Kurt’s breath was on the back of his ear; his long, warm body finding its place against Blaine’s, wriggling and then settling into stillness, warming his back and his butt and the back of his legs.

But it wasn’t enough. Blaine wanted to be safe in his companion’s arms. But he wanted something else, too. Something just on the edge of his imagination, something he was too groggy to think of.

As he geared closer to sleep, Blaine’s body thought of it for him. He moved his foot back and teased it between Kurt’s ankles. Kurt seemed stiff and unsure at first, but Blaine kept rubbing his toes against Kurt’s calf to let him know it was okay, to coax Kurt’s upper leg to where it needed to be: hooked over Blaine’s hip and thigh, embracing his lower body the way Kurt’s arms embraced Blaine up above.

Yes, this is what Blaine’s body wanted. Not just to be wrapped up in Kurt’s arms, but to be wrapped up in him. He was safe here. Everything was as it was meant to be.

*

There was hair in Kurt’s nose, tickling the opening of his nostril like a fine thread.

He should pick up Spinnenkatze and move her. He was spoiling her too much, letting her sleep on his pillow. All her little cat-fur oils couldn't possibly be good for his skin.

He didn't, though. He just wrinkled his nose and adjusted his position so the hair was no longer tormenting him. Maybe if he kept his eyes closed, he could fall back asleep. His hand was on his belly, rising and falling with each breath, his fingertip resting on the horizontal line that marked the navel of the garment. He reflexively ran his index finger over that line, back and forth, the repetition of the strokes soothing the anxiety running just under his skin. Constant nourishment to body and spirit, he thought, and that was soothing, too. God would give him what he needed.

Only … this was strange, wasn't it? Kurt could feel the warmth of muscle and belly through the garment. But his belly couldn’t feel his finger.

What time was it, anyway? Why could he see the sun through his eyelids?

Kurt blinked open his eyes to find himself exactly where he had been when he had fallen asleep: wrapped around his companion.

Beneath Kurt’s hand, Blaine’s stomach rose and fell with the steady breath of sleep. Kurt’s thigh was splayed over Blaine’s hip, the arch of foot tucked neatly against Blaine’s knee. Kurt’s penis was snug against Blaine’s buttcrack, so close to where it had been in his dream the previous night.

Time to disentangle himself.

Blaine fussed a little as Kurt did so, but never fully awakened. His coloring was already starting to look better. Kurt touched his forehead. He didn't think Blaine’s fever was going up, at least.

How had Kurt fallen asleep? His heart had started hammering as soon as he’s started taking off his suit jacket, and Kurt didn't remember it ever slowing down. But it must have at some point. After all, it wasn't like Kurt could think too many sexy thoughts about Blaine when his companion was sick as a dog. But still, it had been thrilling—the rightness of holding Blaine in his arms, the frightening intimacy of twining their legs together. If Kurt could never have sex, this would be enough.

Kurt walked quietly into the front room and checked the time. He'd only been asleep for an hour, though he felt much groggier than that. He checked his phone. There was a message from Henri, who Kurt had texted earlier to let him know Elder Anderson was sick and they would have to come by a different day. The message consisted entirely of a thumbs up emoji; Kurt wondered if it was supposed to be ironic.

Kurt sent a message to Elder Clarington and then called the mission president’s wife to let them know Blaine was sick, but it probably wasn't anything that would require medical attention. Elder Clarington immediately shot back with a text telling Kurt that just because its companion was sick didn't mean he could slack off, to which Kurt simply replied, I have no plans to.

Early in his mission, Kurt would have felt imprisoned by a companion’s illness—like Satan himself had thrown that specific obstacle in Kurt’s way for the sole purpose of preventing Kurt from reaching potential converts and earning his redemption. Now, it was an opportunity to serve.

Kurt looked through the cabinets and refrigerator for things that Blaine might be able to eat when he started to feel better. He got out rice and quick-set gelatin, and texted Dani to see if she had any bananas or ginger ale in her apartment.

*

Kurt was gone. How was Kurt gone? Blaine had only been asleep for a few minutes, and Kurt’s body had been so warm and wonderful, like a heavy blanket on a cold night. How could Blaine have missed his companion getting up out of bed?

Blaine’s stomach growled. Not the bad kind of growling, but the kind you got when you were hungry. He reached over to the side table and took a sip from the cup Kurt had left there.

Kurt appeared in the doorway. “You’re awake.”

“Of course I'm awake. I never really fell asleep.”

“Um, no.” Kurt sat down on Blaine’s bed, where he belonged. He turned the alarm clock around so Blaine could see the numbers on its face. But they didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be past nineteen hours already.

“No,” said Blaine, wondering if his vision had gotten messed up from dehydration or something. Or maybe he just couldn't remember how to read German clocks anymore?

“Yup,” said Kurt.

Blaine rubbed his eyes. “I guess that explains why my appetite is back already.”

“Yeah?” Kurt put his hand to Blaine’s forehead. “You feel a little cooler too. Let me take your temperature again.”

“You don’t need to do that. If you ask me how I’m feeling, I can just tell you that I am one-hundred percent better.”

Kurt studied Blaine’s face. “Sister Steele is going to ask about it, though. And I would feel better knowing.”

Blaine didn't protest further. It was kind of nice having Kurt dote on him like this, to be reminded how much Kurt cared about his well-being. It was even nicer to see the way Kurt smiled and did a little bounce on the edge of the mattress when he read out the results: “Thirty-seven!”

“It must have been the blessing,” Blaine said sanguinely.

“Maybe,” Kurt said.

Blaine really did feel a lot better. He could sit up in bed all by himself, and now he felt ready to jump out of it. Plus, he was hungry. He even felt a little horny, which was always a sign that he was on the mend.

“Can you dress yourself?” Kurt asked.

Blaine looked down and realized he was only in his garments. Had only been in his garments for the last several hours, including when Kurt had been lying next with him in bed and acting as his security blanket. He was as naked as Kurt had ever seen him. And somehow that felt a little exciting, which was stupid, because Blaine really needed to stop caring about whether or not gay guys were into his body, and also because Blaine in garments was not hot, and Blaine in his sweat-soaked, sick-person-smelling garments was objectively disgusting—which was why Kurt was clearly not eager to help Blaine peel them off and replace them with fresh ones.

But maybe that was okay, because Blaine was sporting a pretty significant erection, and it would be rude to expose his companion to that. “Yeah. I can get dressed.”

Fully clothed and half and hour later, Blaine clacked his spoon against the inside of his empty Jell-O bowl, as if more might magically appear. “I’m still hungry.”

“Do you feel ready for a little rice?” asked Kurt sympathetically.

Blaine shrugged. “Maybe. But I don't feel like making any.”

“You don’t have to. I already did.” Kurt stood up from his chair and walked to the refrigerator. “I made some plain and some with bouillon. I wasn't sure what you would want after being sick. I don't really know your comfort food repertoire.”

Blaine's heart warmed. “You didn't have to.”

“Rice not your thing when you've been sick?”

“No, it is. I just …” Blaine felt on the verge of tearing up. First the Jell-O, now this? Most missionaries would have handed him a box of crackers and let him fend for himself. But Kurt treated him like somebody important, somebody worth pampering and coddling back into health. “I'm grateful, that's all.”

Kurt warmed a quarter cup of rice in the microwave and set it on the table in front of Blaine. “Eat slowly,” he said, after Blaine scarfed down the first spoonful.

That was the downside to having Kurt as a nurse. You couldn't get away with anything.

“I wonder if I should have more,” Blaine said when he was done. This whole listening to your body thing was confusing. Was he supposed to be listening to the part of him that was hungry or the part of him that had thrown up a few hours ago?

“How do you feel?”

Blaine thought about it. His erection was distracting him more than his hunger now, so he could probably wait. “We should play a game.”

“Dictionary? Scripture Hunt?” Kurt asked. They didn't have any board games in the apartment.

Scripture Hunt might work. Reading scriptures was supposed to be a good way to drive away arousal, though in Blaine’s case, it didn't always work. But something spiritual—that was a good idea. “No, Hymn Feud. You know the game.”

“‘Hymn Feud?’ That sounds like an oxymoron. And a way to stir up contention.”

“No, it’s not. Maybe you don't know it by that name, but you must have played it before, and we're gonna play it now. You start.”

“How?”

“Sing a hymn. Any hymn.”

Kurt rolled his eyes but complied. “The spirit of God like a fire is burning, the latter-day glory begins to come forth. The visions and blessings of old are returning, and angels are coming to visit the earth.”

Blaine was so taken in by Kurt’s rendition that he momentarily forgot the aim of the game was to jump in as soon as possible with a related hymn, and not just sit there bathing in your competitor’s voice. If he’d been paying attention, he could have started right after the first line with any of a hundred hymns that mention the Holy Spirit, but now he should probably do something with angels … “Angels we have heard on high, singing sweetly o’er the plains—”

“Oh! Hymn Hoedown!” Kurt clapped his hands excitedly. “An angel came to Joseph Smith, and from the ground he took a sacred record hidden there, a precious, holy book—”

“Book of Mormon stories that my teacher tells to me are about the Lamanites in ancient history. Long ago their fathers came from far across the sea—”

“It may not be on the mountain height or over the stormy sea …”

Ten minutes later, they were still going, without a single hitch—unless you counted the times Blaine got distracted by Kurt’s voice and took a while to think of something to jump in with.

Like right now, when Blaine had let Kurt go through an entire verse of I Feel My Savior’s Love because he was lost in the lyrics and the sound, and now, on the chorus, “He knows I will follow him, give all my life to him,” it felt like some long-buried longing was being coaxed out of Blaine, like it wasn't just about the Savior, but something else, too.

It was like that feeling Blaine used to get when he'd watch romantic movies, where he’d feel this ache in his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to find someone he could give his full commitment to.

It felt like that with Kurt sometimes—like the Holy Ghost was calling Blaine to surrender himself completely to this friendship and everything it would teach him.

Kurt watched Blaine’s face curiously as he moved on to the second verse, about the gentleness of the Savior’s love enfolding Blaine, about his heart being filled with peace, and launched into the chorus again with “He knows I will follow him, give all my life to him…”

Blaine needed to sing something now or never. He couldn’t expect Kurt to sit here serenading him in the kitchen all night, even if that’s what he wanted. Life. Life. Life. Blaine sang the first thing he could think of that had the word life in it: “Before you met me, I was all right. But things were kind of heavy. You brought me to life—”

Kurt burst out laughing. “That’s not a hymn, Elder Anderson.”

Blaine felt his cheeks going warm. “It is if you change the words a little.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow in that exquisite way he had of showing he could not be fooled. “Oh?”

Blaine could do this. Back when Joe showed up and was trying to get Blaine to be his friend as well as Sam, he taught them a game you could play to make any pop song wholesome: just add Jesus. It had been a while since Blaine had done it, but he figured he could carry it off now, even if the sugar high from the Jell-O was starting to fade.

Before I met you, Jesus, I was alright.

But things were kind of heavy, you brought me to life.

Now every Easter, Easter, you'll be the one sacrifice, sacrifice.

Let's go all the way down the

Covenant path, it’s love.

We can dance until we die

then resurrect, we'll be young forever!

“I can’t believe you,” Kurt said, his hand pressed against his stomach because he kept bending over the table in fits of laughter, and his cheeks flushing that most handsome pink.

“This is serious stuff,” said Blaine, and Kurt laughed harder.

Blaine decided Joe maybe hadn't been as bad as Blaine had made him out to be, after all.

“If you have enough energy to be that ridiculous,” said Kurt, wiping tears from his eyes, “you probably have it in you to eat a little more. More rice? Or can you handle something with a little more flavor and electrolytes?”

“Like what?”

“Dani has provided us with bananas.”

Blaine clapped his hands. “Thank you, Dani!” Bananas were hands-down his favorite comfort food next to saltines, but you couldn't expect to find proper saltines in Germany. Bananas, on the other hand—the one that Kurt held out to him was very proper, plump and bright yellow with a slight tinge of green on the ends. Blaine actually moaned when he bit into it. It was like manna from heaven—or, wait, did manna actually taste good?

“So clearly, your appetite is back,” said Kurt. His cheeks were still pink from the laughing. Or maybe—

Blaine slid the banana back into his mouth. Back in high school, Tina used to do this thing at lunch where she would be pretending to give a banana a blowjob. It was funny and a little bit sexy. Blaine couldn't help but get at least half hard. It wasn't Tina’s mouth in particular that got him going, and he prayed to God she didn't want to do that to him. But the abstract concept of mouths on penises was hot.

Blaine wondered if Kurt thought so, too.

If anyone had ever played the banana game with Kurt.

If Kurt was thinking about mouths on penises right now.

Because Blaine was, and he was getting even harder than he’d already been.

“Are you going to eat that, or just hold it there?” Kurt asked.

It was almost exactly what Blaine used to say to Tina. And then she would answer, What, you’re not enjoying the show? Blaine knew better than to say that to Kurt, though. He reluctantly took a bite.

Apparently, he wasn't as sexy sucking on bananas as Tina had been.

*

Blaine’s face planted into the table almost as soon as he was done with his second banana. Which, thank goodness. Because he had eaten them so slowly and lovingly and with such gustatory relish that Kurt’s erection from earlier in the afternoon had returned with a vengeance.

Seriously. Was Kurt that far gone? That just watching his companion do something as innocent as eat food made Kurt think devious thoughts? Not that they had been thoughts, exactly. Kurt hadn't gone so far as to picture any sexual acts. But he felt them, almost, like shadows on his body—hints of warmth and pleasure that Kurt avoided entertaining outside his dreams.

Kurt coaxed Blaine awake and to the bathroom to brush his teeth. His companion insisted on taking a shower, too. Kurt worried Blaine was too weak and would fall over, but Blaine said he felt too gross to fall asleep, and despite Kurt’s logical protestations that Blaine had fallen asleep already at the kitchen table, Blaine won the argument. At least he let Kurt get out a clean set of garments and pajamas for him and hand it through the bathroom door.

Blaine survived the shower and prayers and hugs and being tucked back into bed by Kurt.

“You're not ready for bed yet,” Blaine said with a pout. “How will I fall asleep if you're not in here too?”

“I’m sure you will,” Kurt said, stroking the top of Blaine’s head. “And if you don't, I won't be that long. I just need to clean up and shower and stuff.” Kurt felt a little guilty about the “and stuff.” It wasn’t just some vague to-dos he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to touch himself. Had wanted to since Blaine had started going gangbusters on that banana. Since he'd woken up entwined with him. Since that hot, vulnerable dream of the night before. And since he had touched himself two days ago and it had been glorious.

And Kurt was determined to do it. If last night’s soiling of his garments and today’s utter failure at proselytizing had taught him anything, it was that excessive self-restraint in that area did not bear spiritual fruit.

“Do you want my MP3 player?” Kurt said, to assuage his conscience.

Blaine lit up in a groggy sort of way. He was going to be asleep within five minutes, no question.

And he was. Almost as soon as the earplugs were in and Kurt had selected his most calming playlist, Blaine let out his first snore.

Kurt went into the kitchen and cleaned up. He washed the dishes and thought about Fast Sunday, his and Blaine’s hands covered in suds, the reassuring warmth of Blaine’s wrist in his palm. It shouldn't have been an arousing image, just like lying with an ill Blaine shouldn't have been arousing, either. But those touches were intimate. When Kurt was close to Blaine that way, he felt like windows were opening all around him, letting light into his darkest recesses. That these unsettling parts of Kurt, in the bright light of Blaine’s affection, turned out to be no longer frightening, but beautiful.

Maybe Kurt’s desires were beautiful, too. Maybe the things he dreamed about, the erotic touch he wanted, were outgrowths of that feeling Kurt got when he held Blaine close.

It had been a long time since Kurt had consciously allowed his imagination to explore the deeper intimacies. And the act he had dreamt of the previous night—even during the early days of his adolescence, when Kurt had existed in that liminal space where the need to explore his fantasies outweighed any guilt he felt over doing so, he had rarely let himself travel there.

He’d known the act existed, of course. He’d first heard about it in elementary school through generic slurs, and later in middle school in ones directly aimed at him. Throughout those years, he’d thought the whole thing sounded repulsive, and also completely made up.

But later, in high school, he’d started to hear it spoken of casually and without shame by some of his peers. He’d heard straight Christian kids contemplating whether they could preserve their virginity by doing it that way instead of the other way, and Brittany extolling its unparalleled pleasures, and Puck wondering out loud if the fact that he liked Lauren to stick her finger up his ass and wanted her to do him with a strap-on made him a little gay—and if it did, then he guessed he was okay with being a little gay, because he really wanted it.

By that point in his life, Kurt understood the inclination to want to plunge into anything warm and tight, even if he was too righteous to actually do so. The act no longer seemed unquestionably gross to him. He liked thinking about the fact that Jacob Black had a penis that got erect like his, that responded to touch and attention, that would feel warm and heavy in Kurt’s hand. The idea of Jacob being inside of him, or him being inside of Jacob, became appealing, at least on a theoretical level, because penises and arousal and pleasure were appealing. But if Kurt thought about it too hard, he wondered how such a large thing could possibly fit inside such a small hole.

He gave into his curiosity and looked up “gay anal porn” on the internet. Okay. So it really could fit. And it didn't even seem like much of a struggle to get it in, after a little warm up. The guys on the receiving end sure looked like they were enjoying it, and Kurt guiltily got off on it, despite being appalled at their tattoos and worrying what their mothers might think, but still—even as it moved in and out and the receivers begged for more, more, more, it looked way too big for that tight space.

So then Kurt looked up “does anyone actually enjoy anal sex” and learned about anal nerve endings and prostates. It sounded intriguing enough that, after resisting the temptation for almost a month past his first reading, he had, in a fit of passion, pushed a spit-soaked finger into his own hole and gone searching around for his prostate. He wasn't sure if it felt weird and uncomfortable for physical reasons or because he kept thinking about the prohibition on arousing sexual feelings in your own body. Because if that prohibition was right, which it must be, because it was printed in a church pamphlet, then stroking your own prostate must be the worst thing you could possibly do, because it was an act that existed for the sole purpose of arousing a new kind of sexual feeling that his body had never yet experienced and never would experience on its own, even in wet dreams.

After that, Kurt had felt too guilty to try much more experimentation with his backside. And soon after, he tried to stop thinking about sex at all. Even his fantasies involving nothing but hands, rubbing, and Jacob Black in a field of lilacs started feeling too risqué.

But now, everything in Kurt’s life was turning upside down. So much of what Kurt had built his faith on was false. Brigham Young being a racist, Joseph Smith practicing polygamy, masturbation not driving the Spirit away—Kurt had always given lip service to the fact that leaders could be fallible, but with this new evidence, he had to give more than lip service. He had to admit it was true.

Kurt had built his faith on a scaffolding of weak assumptions. And now that scaffolding was starting collapse. He had to build a new one. But he wasn’t sure how.

All Kurt knew was that the cause-and-effect relationships he’d been taught throughout his life weren't real. That not everything labeled a sin was, in fact, a sin. Kurt had touched himself two nights ago, and had been rewarded with one of the most fruitful days of his mission. And if enjoying his own touch hadn’t harm his relationship with God, maybe enjoying thoughts of sex wouldn’t, either. Even if he could never partake in sexual relations with another person, was it necessarily wrong to imagine them? It wasn't sinful to daydream about being a dog or flying like a superhero or living on another planet, even though those things were impossible. Maybe fantasizing about sex, for Kurt, wasn't sinful, either.

Yes. That’s what he was going to do tonight. He was going to imagine the things he hadn’t let himself imagine in years.

Kurt felt a buzz of excitement as he undressed for the shower. His hairs were standing on end. He shivered at his own touch. He looked at his erection in the mirror and palmed it gently, as if it was something to be handled with love and care.

He felt like he was seducing himself, and was unashamed.

Under the steady thrum of water, Kurt rubbed soap over his shoulders and down his chest, letting the fingers of his right hand trail slowly down his belly and toward his erection. He closed his eyes and let himself imagine that it was another man's hand on his body, another man stroking him, another man desiring his pleasure and release. He thought back to his dream last night, of the way the imaginary man who’d looked so much like Blaine had wanted him, freely and without shame. How he had given himself over to his desires and Kurt’s passion, how he had opened himself to be loved.

Kurt imagined himself giving back the same way, here in the shower, under the warm stream of water, running his fingers through that imaginary man's wet curls, kissing his damp shoulders, and then down, down, to his nipples and his belly and then further down, taking him into his mouth, licking him and sucking him with glorious abandon, making this imaginary man feels so wanted, so adored.

He heard the imaginary man pleading the way he had in Kurt’s dream last night—for more, for healing, for love. Kurt couldn’t refuse. He took his lover into his arms and pressed him up against the wall of the shower, kissing the soft mounds of his buttocks and up to his shoulder blades, his neck, his mouth. He ran his hands over the imaginary man’s chest, his stiff nipples, the soft hairs on his belly, eliciting soft, needy moans. He held his lover’s hips firmly and guided him to the right place.

Kurt entered him slowly, surely, right where they both needed.

His imaginary lover pushed back onto him, begging to have all of it, to feel Kurt fully in him, for Kurt to know him.

Kurt wouldn’t refuse. He would give his lover his full length, but also more. He would give him his heart. He would hold him to his chest and whisper sweet promises into his ear. I’ll never give you up, honey. I'll never say goodbye. You have me. You have all of me.

He would touch this imaginary man’s most sacred parts, inside and out, stroking and loving him, running his hands over his chest and his leaking erection, kissing his neck, timing his thrusts for his lover’s pleasure more than for his own.

You feel so good, Kurt. I want you so bad. I’ll never hurt you. He would kiss Kurt sloppily, because that would be a sloppy position to kiss in, so maybe then he would turn around and Kurt would hoist him up around his waist like he had in the dream last night, and his imaginary lover would smile ecstatically and say You always know exactly how I want it. Now show me how much you love me. Make me come.

And they would kiss and thrust and grind, so in sync that Kurt wouldn't be able to tell who was initiating each movement—because neither of them was. Every breath, every stroke, every thrust was born of both of them, their bodies speaking to each other, their hearts as one.

I want to tell you how I'm feeling, but I can't, his lover would say, now desperate, panting, rising into ecstasy. So let me show you. And his brown eyes would roll back and he would gasp and from that most sacred part, held reverently in Kurt’s hand, the evidence of his desire would flow tangibly over Kurt’s fingers.

“I love you,” Kurt mouthed under the water. “I love you so much.”

Kurt came.

*

Kurt felt a little guilty the next morning when Blaine walked into the kitchen full of bright energy and gave him an ecstatic smile not unlike the one Kurt’s imaginary lover had directed toward him the previous night.

Kurt reminded himself that he hadn't been imagining Blaine, but the man from his dreams. He hadn’t violated the person standing in front of him. Not really.

Also, Kurt should probably stop thinking of his companion as Blaine. The name was Elder Anderson. They were colleagues. Professionals.

“I feel amazing this morning!” Elder Anderson said.

“Good. Perhaps that portends an amazing day,” Kurt said hopefully. If self-given orgasms correlated to high missionary productivity, the day should be record breaking.

But if the remorse Kurt was feeling right now was any measure, it was going to be a terrible day.

As soon as they hit the streets, the day seemed determined to defeat Kurt’s self-punishing predictions. Some random teenager walked up to them and asked for a Book of Mormon for a report she was writing for religion class—it wasn't a request for baptism, but it opened a door. Then her group of friends, catching up with her, were all struck by what a brilliant idea this was and decided maybe they could do their reports on the Mormons, as well. Kurt and Elder Anderson ended up leading an abbreviated version of the first discussion right there, and invited them to sacrament meeting so that they could see true religion in practice.

“I think they might actually show up,” Elder Anderson said with a bounce as the kids walked away.

“I get that sense too,” said Kurt, but tried not to get too carried away with the feeling. Intellectual curiosity wasn't the best basis for conversion.

At the bike shop, Henri seemed delighted to see them, greeting them with a hearty “Salut!” and waving them toward the maintenance counter as soon as they walked into the store. “I was telling my friend Howard here about you guys,” Henri said, patting a fellow mechanic on the back. Howard was at a bike stand, fiddling with the spokes on a street cruiser.

“Hello,” Howard said with a wave and a frown, then turned to Henri and asked him where some unintelligible word in German could be found.

Not as excited to see them as Henri, clearly.

Elder Anderson’s eyes lit up, though. “Oh my gosh, I think he’s Pinoy!” he whispered excitedly to Kurt as Henri and Howard went fishing through the hardware chest for the unintelligible German word. “I’m going to ask him.”

“We’re not supposed to ask people about their ethnicities like that,” Kurt whispered back.

“You’re not. But I can,” Elder Anderson answered with a wink.

Elder Anderson was right, and Howard revealed himself to be capable of smiling as they discussed their familial origins and where to ingredients for Filipino foods around there. They gave him a Book of Mormon, too.

“This is such a weird day. When is the other shoe going to drop?” Kurt asked after they left the shop.

“Did a first shoe ever drop?” Elder Anderson asked.

“Not today, but … never mind, I'm being negative. I'm just not used to things going so well. We've given out five books of Mormon already and it's not even lunch time yet.”

Elder Anderson patted Kurt’s shoulder. “It's because you're so righteous, Elder Hummel.”

Oh, the things Elder Anderson didn't know.

They were scheduled to meet with Andrea Carmichael and her husband that afternoon. They were staying with a friend from the States while they waited for their furniture arrive, so she would be there too.

“You must be the missionaries!” said the skinny blonde woman who answered the door. She looked an awful lot like Gwyneth Paltrow. “Oh my God, you guys look just like the ones in The Book of Mormon musical. Have you seen it? It’s so good.”

Ah. Here was Kurt’s punishment, finally.

*

“Anyway, I'm so excited to meet you!” the blonde woman thrust her hand out for shaking. “Holly Holliday. I used to live in Ohio, too. Andrea tells me one of you is from Lima?”

“That would be me,” Elder Hummel said, a fake smile plastered on his face. (Blaine was doing his best to think of Kurt as Elder Hummel again, now that they were out of the apartment.)

Holly scrutinized his face. “You’re probably too young to have ever met me. I was a substitute teacher, but I mostly did high school and I left ten years ago. I felt like I was getting too much consistency in my life, ya know? I became a substitute teacher so that I wouldn't have to see the same faces every day, but after a while in the same handful of school districts, you end up seeing the same faces over and over again, anyway, and then you start feeling attached, and I don't like feeling attached. But then I realized, ‘International schools! Kids rotate in and out of those faster than bread through one of those conveyor belt toasters, and if I become a substitute teacher there, it will be almost impossible to build relationships with the kids or their families!’”

Blaine was contemplating how he could possibly turn Holly’s desire for inconsistency into a pitch for the church when Andrea came to the rescue. “Holly, I told you not to answer the door. You'll scare them away!”

Blaine and Elder Hummel were ushered into the living room, and Holly disappeared to take a phone call, leaving the missionaries alone with Andrea and her husband, Dalton Rumba, who Elder Hummel also recognized. Apparently Dalton had directed a show choir for the deaf that competed against Elder Hummel’s glee club in his sophomore year, and lost. Dalton appeared to still hold a grudge about it, which Blaine could sympathize with. It was hard to spend life as the perpetual underdog.

But it was best to avoid contention. And Blaine had an idea of how to steer the conversation in a more positive direction. “So,” he said, crossing his legs and interlacing his fingers over his knees, “tell us a little about yourselves. You're newlyweds? How did you meet?”

“You know, we've known each other for so long, I’m not sure either of us remember the exact moment,” Dalton said.

“We met in kindergarten,” said Andrea, patting Dalton’s hand. “And we dated for a little in high school. But then we went our separate ways, and I got caught up in the glamour of television news, and I ended up in a string of affairs with pompous newscasters, and then I married the last newscaster, which was just insane, and he cheated on me, and I divorced him, and then Dalton and I reconnected at a support group for recent divorcees and … well. I finally found out what it was like to be in love for the first time.” Dalton squeezed her hand, and Blaine felt a pleasant squeeze around his heart. He loved when people were in love.

“Both of us have been through a lot,” Dalton said. “And frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted to risk having another relationship. But on our first date, Andrea said to me, she said, ‘I can’t promise you much, Dalton. I don’t know if this will turn into something or not. But I can promise you this: I’m never going to tell you a lie or intentionally hurt you. I'll always try to be as honest as I can be, and as kind as I know how.’ And I thought, ‘Well, I’ve got to give this woman a chance.’ And I’m so glad I did.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet.” Blaine thought his heart might melt into a puddle right there. He glanced over at Elder Hummel and wondered what his heart was doing. “Well, I suppose If you've spoken to the missionaries before, you know what the church teaches about marriage, right? Other Christian churches say we can’t know if marriage continues in heaven, or they teach that it definitely doesn't. But we believe married couples don't have to part at death. You can be together in heaven, also, married for time and all eternity.”

“Of course,” said Andrea. “That's one of the reasons we want to get baptized. So we can eventually go to the temple and be sealed to each other there.”

She beamed. Dalton beamed. Blaine beamed.

They talked a bit more about what Andrea and Dalton already knew about the church, how much of the Book of Mormon they had read, and any questions they had. It was wonderful. Blaine felt the presence of the Holy Spirit so strongly, and from the few looks he shared with Elder Hummel, he thought his companion felt it, too.

And then Holly Holiday came tornadoing back into the living room. “Sorry about that. Hope you didn't miss me too much. One of the jobs I applied to. I realized I have a problem with commitment, and maybe running Incessantly around the world isn't exactly a lifestyle I'm choosing, but just a sign that I'm avoiding deeper things. So I'm trying to get a permanent teaching job somewhere. It's weird.”

Huh. That was unexpected. The thing she’d said at the door wasn't the thing she believed now. Maybe her desire for baptism wasn't as bizarre as it had first sounded.

Elder Hummel had noticed this discrepancy too, judging by the way his eyebrow quirked in interest. “How did you become interested in the Mormons, Holly?” Elder Hummel asked.

“Oh!” she said, her face lighting up as she plunged down onto the couch next to Andrea. “It was when I saw The Book of Mormon musical in London. I mean, I know all those songs were supposed to be making fun of the Mormons, but that stuff about God living on a planet—well, that makes so much sense! I was raised Catholic and they're always talking about how God lives in heaven, but nobody can tell you where or what heaven is. Is it a physical place? Do people there walk on the ground or swim through the clouds? But a planet? I can wrap my head around that. Also, the garden of Eden being in Jackson, Missouri, makes way more sense than it being in the Middle East, because it actually rains in Jackson, Missouri. Like, way better conditions for growing a garden, am I right? But the thing that really got me was when Elder Price—wait, have you seen it?”

Blaine and Elder Hummel both shook their heads.

“Oh, well, you must. Because there's this part where one of the missionaries, Elder Price, decides to risk his life and go preach the gospeI to a bunch of warlords. And the moment I saw that—it was like a punch to the gut. Because, you see, my whole life, my motto has been to grab life by the balls. But when I saw Elder Price walk into that guerrilla camp—well, that was such a ballsy move! And I realized I've never come close to that. I've been spending my entire life running away from stuff I was afraid of, not toward it. Like the whole commitment thing. Why am I afraid to see the same faces year after year? That's a little weird.”

Huh. Blaine had worried Holly was trolling them with the planet and garden of Eden stuff. But that last thing … maybe she was for real. Blaine looked over at Elder Hummel to gauge his reaction. But Elder Hummel had his missionary face on, not his home face, and he was inscrutable.

Elder Hummel leaned forward in his chair. “Have you reached out to the missionaries before?”

“No. This only happened a few months ago. But I’ve read the Book of Mormon! And then Andrea called me and told me she was moving out here, and she'd been reading the Book of Mormon too, and, well, I was like, it’s a sign! And I went on the Internet and read all about the cool temple stuff and more about Kolob, and then mother in heaven—which rocks, by the way.” She shared a fist bump with Andrea. “I mean, I'm not crazy about the gay stuff, because I slept with plenty of women in college, or the law of chastity stuff, because, well, I'm no stranger to love on either side of the fence, but it's really all kind of hypothetical at this point, anyway, because I had my ovaries removed a few years ago and let me tell you, not a lot going on down there these days. But the Word of Wisdom? I can get down with that. Alcohol has gotten me in a lot of trouble, and clearly I don't need caffeine for energy, ’cause I'm not on it now. Plus, common consent and continuing revelation. And Relief Society just sounds so fun! So—basically, what I'm saying, is that as far as the church goes, a full commitment’s what I’m thinking of. Dunk me, give me the Holy Ghost, and teach me how to live a good life without constantly running away from everyone and everything.”

*

“Do you think she’s for real?” Kurt asked as they left Holly’s house.

Elder Anderson seemed to consider. “Yeah, I think she is.”

“Yeah, me too.” She was definitely weird, but she seemed sincere. “A little eccentric, though.”

“True. But I think the church needs a little more eccentricity, don't you?”

Kurt smiled at his companion. “I do.”