#at least i did get some satisfaction the other day when one of the admins (who is a vet but can't give advice bc like. that's illegal

[empressofthesunwriter]

Isekai'd as Chloe

You were watching Miraculous Ladybug on your phone as your bus got hit by a truck. You died, it sucks. But a godly being gives you the chance to start anew in a brand new world. Sadly it's Miraculous, with all the plotholes, and flat characters, and don't forget worshipped while being a sexual abuser Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir. Could your day get any worse? You shouldn't have asked because you were reborn as Chloe and forgot who Papillion was. Someone wanted to see you suffer, that was sure! But you wouldn't give them the satisfaction. It was time to throw canon out of the window and make Miraculous a better show or in your case world!

Main Pairing: Reader/Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

I made a little mistake last chapter. The chapter took place Saturday and I wrote that Reader and Sabrina would see each other tomorrow at school. But it’s a Sunday XD I will correct it when I have time, just telling you it’s Sunday, no school, but not Akuma free you will see. ;D

Chapter 7: Times change

When you woke up the next day, you felt well-rested. After the whole rollercoaster of emotions, it was yesterday you earned a good sleep.

You stretched yourself and started to grab your phone from the night table. That’s when your fingers brushed something wooden.

You frowned, checking what it was.

A little familiar box from the show was beside your phone and a letter.

Suddenly you remember what had happened yesterday and started to grin.

So Master Fu did break into the Agreste household, getting Plagg back and in your hands.

Giddy you sat up.

Ah, it was so awesome!

First, you read the letter.

It said: “Dear [Y/N], Plagg is informed about your situation, so you don’t need to explain anything. We reached also out to Tikki and she will inform Marinette that you two should meet up at the Eifeltower this morning at 10 a.m. It’s better that Marinette meets you before an Akuma attack begins and learns to trust you. If anything is troubling you don’t forget to call me. M. Fu”

You checked the time and let out a sign.

Thank god you woke up earlier.

You had time till to meet Marinette aka. Ladybug.

Time enough to get familiar with Plagg and have breakfast.

That was good.

But first, you destroyed the letter. You could never be more careful.

After it was just tiny paper slips, you opened the box with your Miraculous.

You saw for a moment the ring of the black cat, then a glowy green orb floated from it, encircling you.

You let out a little ah.

Then the orb stopped before you and took the form of a yawing Plagg.

“Good morning, Plagg, it’s an honor to meet you!”, you greeted him excitedly.

The kwami of Destruction just stretched himself, then blinked at you.

“Wow, Dimee and Khee really have gone beyond to be assholes, must suck to live in the body of Miss Mayor Brat.”, he stated nonchalantly. “But it explains why you suddenly did a 360-grade change in personality.”

You admin, you were a bit disappointed. Not even a greeting? Just stating the obvious?

If you were an anime a sweatdrop would appear on your forehead.

“Do you want some camembert?”, you just asked.

At least that got Plagg excited and you called up room service to prepare breakfast for you and a plate of camembert for your kwami.

When it arrived, you already were dressed for the day with your new Miraculous on your ring finger. It had taken a nice design and it didn’t resemble Adrien’s version one bit.

You enjoyed the tower of pancakes, while Plagg stuffed himself full of camembert.

God, how could he like the stinky cheese so much?

You made small talk with each other.

“Are you really okay with me being your new holder?”

“If what Fu said is right, what Adrien would have done in the future, then yes I am. Don’t get me wrong, I like the kid, but if he takes such a dark path because he can’t accept a No from a girl, then I’m happy I got out of time.”

“All right, if you say so. Did you meet others like me before?”

“Dimensionwanderer? Yeah. You are actually my second partner who is one.”

“Really?! Who was it before me? Where did they come from? Did they live a happy life in the end?!”

“Woah, slow down, girl, chew, before you ask questions. It was also a girl, but she was here reborn as a boy. You can imagine what mental stress and body diaspora it gave her. She was one of my kittens who worried me the most, but we managed. It was in Ancient Egypt.”

“What really?! One Akuma in the future will be a copy of the Pharaoh whom Ancient Egypt Ladybug fought. So she had a female cat with her, how cool!”

“How will this happen, girl?”

“Oh well, there will be soon an exhibition in the Louvre about it.”

“Well, then we go there and I will tell you more about my kitten Sanura.”

“Aww, please give me a tiny spoiler.”

You both kept on bickering and it was quite fun. You felt it in your gut. You and Plagg would get along.

Then it was time to transform and meet Ladybug.

It was so simple to say the transformation phrase, but it was so difficult to open the eyes.

You had transformed before your mirror, so you could see yourself, yet you were scared.

What if transformed you didn’t look like yourself again?

Could you survive it?

It was inconvenient that you hadn’t much time left to meet Ladybug. You could stand here for another hour or so.

You were really freaking out!

“Come on, [Y/N], don’t be a coward. Just like a bandaid!”, you encouraged yourself.

So you opened your eyes.

And it was like the whole of Paris heard the happy, relieved, and tearful shout of a young girl.

Ladybug stood with crossed arms in one of the beams of the Eifeltower.

This whole day started crazy!

Tikki just told her that Chat Noir wouldn’t be anymore her partner and that she would get today a new one, was freaking her out.

Who decides this?

Why did this happen?

Her kwami had been all cryptic, just saying that with time she would understand. It wasn’t the right time.

Well, Marinette didn’t have a lot of time today too.

Her parents would celebrate their 20 anniversary with a fancy lunch date and she needed to finish her homework fast, so she would be punctual at Trocadéro, where Alix and Kim would have their race today.

Also, Adrien would be there!

She could amaze him with her self-made banner, she was sure! Yet thinking this made her remember how little her self-made scarf had mattered to him.

The pigtailed girl shook her head.

No, this was Chloe getting to her with her strange words.

Adrien…he didn’t do it on purpose. He was too sweet for this world, too pure.

Yeah, that was it…

That’s when she heard someone land beside her.

Prepared for anything Ladybug turned to the intruder and saw…you.

A breathtaking female cat, with the only similarity to Chat Noir, was the simple black mask with the green cat’s eyes.

You gave her a friendly smile and Ladybug felt the blush rising in her cheeks.

That…was new.

She never got shy around girls, but you…wow, you were practically glowing with happiness and satisfaction that you seemed out of this world.

In a good way!

Like a beautiful angel!

Ladybug blushed even more at her thoughts.

What was up with her?!

“Hello Ladybug!”, you greeted her with a sparkling smile and she swore her heart stopped for a second. You were just too beautiful! “I’m Calamity, it is an honor to meet you. I hope we can be partners and friends!”

You reached out with one hand to shake hers.

She blinked like in trance and took your hand in her. It was like you burned her…but in a good way.

“Hi.”, she croaked out. She mentally scolded herself to get a grip. Chat Noir never made her react this way, so why you?! “I admit…I’m a bit shocked to have a new cat on my side…but I trust my Kwami…so…to a good partnership?”

“To a good partnership.”, you agreed.

“All right. If you have time, we should do a short patrol to get to know each other better.”, she suggests.

You agreed and you both were off.

All your way over to Trocadéro with Sabrina, you were grinning so brightly and happy that Sabrina actually asked you if you had taken some kind of drug.

This only added to your happiness, that she could joke with you already like that, giving her a cheek kiss, which shut her up shocked.

Chloe never showed her any signs of affection, so her brain had to reboot.

You just took the time to remember how awesome patrol with Ladybug had been. The first few minutes it was clear that she expected you to act like Chat Noir, goofy, head-in-the-clouds, non-serious, but you surprised her.

You listen to every word she said, try to give your own input, and never did you flirt or make a stupid joke or pun.

After patrol ended she seemed pretty happy with you, that’s when you flirted a bit and told her she had a pretty smile.

Work was over so you could do it now.

She blushed so cutely at this, that you cooed at her. Also, you were so damn happy.

Seems like Ladybug/Marinette liked your true self! Maybe you could somehow date her and Luka.

But you wanted to first have with her a real friendship, before trying to romance her. And you had to tell Luka and Marinette that you were polyamorous or it could never work out.

You would see when the time came, for now, you were happy that all was good.

Marinette accepts you as her new partner. You both worked well together. Plagg was happy with you too and Sabrina grow more confident.

Yep, it was a good day.

Now you only had to prevent Alix from turning today into Timebreaker.

Sabrina and you finally reached Trocadéro, where all your classmates, besides Marinette and Alix, were there already. Kim was doing some over-the-top exercises to warm himself up, and you had to bite your lip to not laugh out loud.

Rose, the sweetheart, was the only one of your classmates who greeted you and Sabrina. She would have hugged you for sure if Juleka didn’t hold into her shoulders.

You both greeted back and tried to ignore the looks of your other classmates. There was still a lot of distaste, and distrust in them.

You would give them time.

You didn’t expect that they would want to be your friends after all the shit Chloe had pulled for years.

So Sabrina and you choose a place where you wouldn’t much disturb the others, yet could still cheer for the race.

That’s when you noted, that Adrien was missing.

Uh, did he in the canon time only come to the race since as Chat Noir he could break out from the mansion? Well, shit, seems like no Adrien today then.

A part of you did feel bad. No one, not even Mister I-Don’t-Respect-A-No should live like a prisoner in his own house/mansion.

You needed to get him out there fast.

Even more so, since he couldn’t anymore break out without Plagg.

Suddenly you hear delightful shouts and praises.

Ah, Marinette finally arrived, presenting proud her self-made banner. You and Sabrina applauded, you were pretty sure, Marinette wouldn’t take your praise as praise.

But she didn’t even notice you, since her eyes searched for, well you wanna guess?

Right, Adrien!

She looked like a kicked puppy to Alya, who just shrugged her shoulders. Marinette signed in defeat.

If only she knew that it was better to let Adrien go! You needed to destroy the Love Square!

…Was it even squared anymore, since Chat Noir was out?

“You all picked the wrong side to cheer on.”, yelled Kim loudly over everyone. “Looks like Alix isn't even showing up! Probably too chicken to race an extreme athlete like me.”

“Spoke too soon, Kim.”

There was the star of today and potentially Akuma, Alix! Everyone cheers her on.

“Your ridiculous bets are over. I'm gonna leave you in the dust, meathead!”

“You're no match for me. My neck is bigger than your thigh.”

You mumbled the same thing to Sabrina, that Alya did to Marinette: “Is that a good thing?”

Sabrina giggles cutely. You are happy that you can joke around with her. She is really a lot better since she started therapy.

Max comes between Kim and Alix and pushes them away from each other.

“Let's review the official rules.”, the glass wearer begins. “Two laps around the fountains; approximately 500 yards. The first one over the line's declared the victor! If Kim triumphs, Alix will relinquish her rollerblades to him. If Alix triumphs, Kim will be prohibited from making another dare for the rest of the school year.”

Nearly everyone shouts no more dares and such, then when Alix and Kim make themselves race ready, you make yourself ready too.

As you know Alix will give Alya her watch, which is actually the rabbit’s Miraculous, Alya hands it to Marinette and she would let it fall on the ground if Adrien didn’t catch it.

Since Adrien isn’t here, you would do it.

It plays out just like you remember from the show.

You can practically see how it falls in slow motion, till it lands securely in your hand.

“Oh dear, that was close.”, say’s Sabrina.

Marinette starts at you in disbelief.

“Chloe?”

“Marinette.”, you answer simply and put the watch in your purse. In it sits Plagg eating his camembert, eyeing the watch curiously. You close your purse to be extra safe so that nothing happens to it.

“Chloe!”, repeats Marinette in an accusing tone of voice. You kinda expected it. “That’s Alix’s watch you can’t just pocket it, give it back!”

“I’m not pocketing it, I’m keeping it save for Alix.”, you explain.

“Hah, you want me to believe that?!”

You sign and rub your temple. Sabrina looks worried between you and the angry Marinette.

“Marinette, I know you don’t believe for one bit that I want to change and be a better person and that I’m truly sorry for all the things I did in the past, but you could, at last, give me the benefit of the doubt, please.”, you beg tired.

It was true that Marinette liked you as Calamity, but Chloe she still hated. How are you ever going to romance her with this disadvantage?

You all heard then how Alix won the race and Kim practically demanded a rematch. The girl couldn’t care less, she just asked Alya for her watch back.

Before Alya could respond to her, you walked over to Alix and handed her the watch.

“Here you are Alix.”, you said simply.

You swore, it was like the whole world stopped moving. All your classmates turned silent and you felt their disbelieving burning looks on your back. Alix herself stared at you her watch back to you.

“Erm…thanks, Chloe?”, made the skater girl sound like a question, blinking rapidly with you.

You heard how Kim whisper-shouted to your classmates: “Alien, what did I say?”

With a loud groan, you turned around, ready to again explain yourself, that’s when a giant white orb crashed into the building of the Trocadéro completely destroying it!

The destructive wave was so strong then nearly everyone fall down on the ground.

You coughed the dust from your lungs, which had formed after the destruction of the building.

What in the world was-?!

“Little kitty on a roof...”, you heard a familiar voice sing.

Your heart was in your throat, sweat was breaking out and you fearfully looked around.

No…

No…

NO!

It couldn’t be?!

Alix was supposed to be the Akuma today and you prevent it!

“...all alone without his lady.”, the voice continues to sing.

The dust finally settles.

And you saw an Akuma who shouldn’t ever exist.

You feel like throwing up.

So much from preventing to destroying too much of the canon timeline, you should have gripped the stupid Miraculous Spellbook!

The Collector was nothing against…

“Chat…Noir?”, you heard Marinette whisper in disbelief.

No, you thought, that’s…

“Chat Blanc is awfully sorry to interrupt your little race my friends.”, purred the akumatized white cat. “I’m just searching for my lady, so we can fix anything!”

Chat Blanc grinned a cold smile and his blue eyes formally burned into your being.

How many of you have expected this? Be truthful :D

I hope you liked this plot twist!

Next chapter Calamity first Akuma fight against her predecessor Chat Blanc! *dum, dum, dum!*

Let’s hope Reader-Chan and Marinette can handle the crazy cat! :D

Also if you have time check out my DeviantArt there with bases I made my version of Reader-Chan and this Calamity ^^

Next

[lovesupernova25]

Broken Glass

a Quackity Oneshot

warnings: torture (non-explicit), blood, insanity, brief alcohol

i sat down at my computer, blacked out, looked up at 3 am and this was here. please enjoy. (idea from this one comment on this one tiktok that suggested that quackity uses the shape shifting powers some people hc him to have to torment dream. i’ll see if i can find the tiktok!)

~~~ *** ~~~

Quackity knew what broken glass felt like. He knew how it felt slicing up his hands, his face, being kissed into his skin. But this was the first time he knew what it felt like in his soul. Yeah- that's what this feeling was.

Broken glass.

Quackity didn’t turn around when he heard footsteps getting closer. He knew who it was already. No one else would be in this wasteland he’d built, anyways. No one was ever here.

“Q?” The rumble of Sam’s voice was concerned, almost hesitant. Quackity grabbed a bottle from the rack. “Quackity- you said it was urgent. What’s going on?” He turned, and the liquor slammed onto the counter. He might’ve relished the way Sam startled, on a better day. Quackity’s hands found the shot glasses, twisted the cap of the bottle. The neon blue that sloshed from the cup reflected the thunder in his gaze.

“Quackity, it’s still early-” But he tipped his head, knocked back the burning liquor. This time, Sam didn’t jump when the glass crashed down next to his hand. Quackity splayed his palms on the cool granite and leaned across to level his gaze with Sam’s.

“I need to visit the prison, Sam.”

Sam had the good sense to nod.

Maybe this was the wrong way to deal with things. Maybe strapping on armor and sharpening his knives wasn’t a healthy way to process his ex-fiances showing up trying to- what? Apologize? Make things ‘how they used to be’? If that was the case, they really were just mocking him. Nothing would ever be the way it used to.

It ended in a fight, of course. It ended in his already cracking heart fully giving out, splintering into a thousand shards like shattered fvcking glass. It ended in him envying Schlatt, because at least when his heart broke down he got to leave.

Quackity’s stuck here, with this void in his chest that keeps him floating oddly outside his body as Pandora swallows him whole.

They don’t even bother signing the waivers anymore. It would be ridiculous, at this point, especially since Quackity’s fully decked out in armor and tools. He guesses Sam’s just realized Quackity won’t be the reason Dream gets out of the hell they’ve so carefully crafted for him.

Levers, keys. The threshold to the heart of the prison is as claustrophobic as ever, but Quackity embraces the suffocating heat. There’s not much for his mind to wander on, here. There is the wall of lava, and there is the rasp of his boots on obsidian, and there is the rough leather pommel of his sword. There is, on the other side of the fire, a sacrificial lamb. Quackity grins and it hurts as the lava simmers down.

Sam says nothing.

“Dream…” He leans on the butt of his axe, looming, and his ears are still ringing with screams. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier to give me what I want?” He kneels next to the ragged lump of man on the ground and grabs his chin, forces it up. “C’mon… I would leave you alone then, right? I wouldn’t come, wouldn’t have to hurt you- you would get so much peace and quiet… you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Quackity makes his voice honey, his hand gentle. Gods, he thinks he even sees Dream lean into the touch. It’s pitiful, what the admin has become. One of Dream’s acid-green eyes is bloodied and purple, swollen shut, and a cut on his face oozes crimson. His mouth is positively dripping with the stuff, courtesy of Quackity’s pliers and some molars that were just begging to be yanked. He can hear the ragged, wheezing breaths of the man in front of him and Quackity has never felt so sickeningly alive.

“Heh…” Dream flicks his working eye up to hold Quackity’s gaze. “No-” He coughs violently, wheezing and convulsing. The hacking subsides and he forces out; “No peace in death, Big Q. You’ll know that s-soon.”

Quackity’s lip curls. He stands abruptly, taking little satisfaction in the way Dream’s chin cracks against the obsidian.

“You’re pitiful.” This was supposed to help. He thought it did- when he funneled all the glass inside of him into the swing of his axe, the cut of his knife. When the voices in his head were drowned out by the screaming. But Dream was on the ground, bleeding and broken and still acting like he had the upper fvcking hand, and it turned out the glass had grown only sharper.

This isn’t working.

He paces to the back of the cell and yanks a tattered book off the lectern, flipping through it with a scowl. He’s about to chuck the thing in the lava--just to see if it’ll get a reaction out of its’ author--when a name catches his eye. Gingerly, he thumbs back to the page it was written on. Quackity feels so sick he grins when he finds it.

It’s not just one name. It’s hundreds. Some he doesn’t recognize, but most from this server. In fact- it looks like everyone who’s ever stepped foot in Dream’s land has been scrawled on the black-bleeding page. Quackity even thinks he sees his own name in there somewhere. They cover the page almost entirely in ink, written and rewritten and scribbled over each other.

George, Sapnap, Karl, Tommy. Tommy seems to be in there a lot.

Dream must have sat here for hours, scribbling the names of people he would never see again, alone in his personal hell. It’s sick. And something in the back of Quackity’s mind sparks.

“Dream,” He says, as the start of an idea appears. “How would you like to see your friends again?” He sees the confusion in the prisoner’s eyes and has to fight to keep from grinning. “Or… your old friends, I suppose. But I bet they still care about you, don’t you think?” He sets the book down, pacing towards the heap of blood-streaked orange jumpsuit with mock sincerity plastered over his face. His mouth twitches at the look in Dream’s eyes. There’s fear, suspicion, pain… but also, delightfully, hope. He can see Dream trying to crush it, but it’s there. Gods, Quackity could get drunk on that look. Maybe he already is.

“How do you think,” He leans over Dream, hands folded behind his back. “They would feel about you if they saw you now?”

Quackity really is grinning now. The axe wasn’t working, the knives weren’t working, the pliers only made Dream more determined. It was time for a new tactic. He feels that spark in the back of his mind and fans it, turning away from Dream as it grows. He hasn’t dipped into this ability for a long time--people don’t much like his kind--but the only person to see him now is barely human himself. Quackity closes his eyes as the fire washes over him.

When he turns around, he almost breaks character at the shock in Dream’s eyes.

“George?”

There’s so much raw hurt in his voice- gods, why didn’t he think of this sooner?

“Dream…” Quackity says in George’s voice. “Gods… what happened to you?”

“No… how- George-”

“I mean, everybody says you deserved it.” Quackity makes sure the revulsion is clear on his--George’s--face as he steps closer. “I guess you did… Still, though… this is a new low for you.” Dream is actually trying to push himself up now, trembling on wounded arms. “I mean, don’t you remember how things used to be? When we were all together? And now you’re… this. Not to be rude, Dream, but it’s kind of no wonder no one’s broken you out.”

“Stop, you’re… you’re not even real, I…” Dream screws his eyes shut, chest heaving. Aw. It looks like he’s starting to catch on.

“We were all happy, before.” He continues, letting the glass, the anger, slip back into his voice. “Like a family. And then you ruined it. All you’ve ever been is a parasite- it’s just amazing we didn’t notice sooner.” Quackity snarls with George’s face and he knows Dream can’t separate the illusion from reality. “You know what everyone says? They say good fvcking riddance.” Quackity--George--takes a step toward Dream with every word, until he’s sneering directly down at him. “I used to defend you. Down to the very end, I’d defend everything you did- all the wars, all the hurt, broken promises and broken hearts. I was loyal to you.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Not anymore. Now, I say good riddance with the rest of them.”

Quackity doesn’t know much about George and Dream’s history, but he knew they were close. And Dream, for all his boasting about cutting ties, has never truly let go. “I loved you, Dream. And look where it got us. You’re bleeding out in a cell, alone and powerless, and I…” Quackity turns. It’s a damn good thing he’s an amazing actor, or the look on Dream’s face might just make him lose it. It’s the same look he’s seen on just three people’s faces before; three people with worthless rings and broken promises to tie them together.

(“Didn’t you ever love us?”)

But Dream was right about one thing. Attachments are dangerous. And Quackity can wield them like a sword.

“I’m leaving. I don’t need you, Dream. And neither does anyone else.” His lip curls. “You’re worthless, Clay. I hope you rot.”

And the curtain falls.

Dream has pushed himself against a chest by now, heaving and trembling.

“Stop. Stop this, you’re not him, you’re not-” Another coughing fit seizes him and he hacks up blood.

“Wasn’t it a good performance, though? I think I was spot on, Clay.” Quackity leers, in his own voice now. Gods, that was exhilarating.

Dream rests his forehead against the chest, face contorted. “What do you want?” It sounds almost like a sob. Quackity’s smile drops.

“Oh, you know exactly what I want, Dream. You know exactly why I’m still here, and why you can barely stand.” He cocks his head, lip twitching up into a smile. There are a thousand names scrawled into that book, all of them knives sharpened to cut. Quackity’s just gotten started. “Let's see if someone else could encourage you more.”

Dream barely has time to look afraid before the fire has washed over Quackity again.

Lights, camera, action.

“...You always wanted to be remembered, huh.” Sapnap’s voice says. Dream closes his eyes, breath hitching. “You’d always play the hero, when we were kids. Make George and I be the villains every time.” His eyes have been on the ground, but he lifts them now, stares down the figure in the corner. “Look where that fvcking got us.” And this hurts both of them, Quackity knows- because he knows Sapnap’s voice, his mannerisms, the way he sounds when he’s devastated and the way he sounds when he wants to burn the world with rage. Slipping into his skin is as easy as breathing and feels like suffocating all at once.

“You promised me- you promised me this would be our world. That we’d stay together, that we’d finally be happy.” And it is too easy to let that heartbreak bleed into his voice, sprinkle it with the rage and hate of wasted memories.

(“You promised me we’d be happy together.”)

He paces towards Dream with a glare like wildfire. “Well guess what, Dream. I am happy now. This whole server is happier now.” Quackity yanks the man in the orange jumpsuit up by the collar and snarls at his whimper of pain. “Without you. Without your sick fvcking games, without your wars, without your broken promises!” He’s shouting now, and he can see the whites of Dream’s eyes, like a horse near a fire. Quackity drops him with Sapnap’s hands like a rat he’d been holding by the tail. “Do you remember the promises you’d make, Dream?”

And now Quackity feels himself shifting again, almost involuntarily. His voice pitches higher and demonic horns scrape the obsidian above them. “You promised me peace.” Quackity says in BBH’s voice. “You said we’d be safe, that we’d win the wars!” It’s almost sickening to take the form of someone whose mind he knows is long gone. Worth it, though, to watch Dream squirm. “Is this what peace looks like to you, Dream? I can’t even remember what your face looks like!” There’s desperation in his voice, though Quackity doesn’t even know if what he’s saying is true. For all he knows it could be. “I can’t remember,” He takes a step towards Dream, glowing eyes wide with horror “What my own face looks like.”

“Bad-” Dream’s voice is almost pleading. He doesn’t want to hear this.

Good.

"Every time I look in the mirror-” Quackity’s breath hitches, just for dramatic effect. “All I see is red. Crimson. I’m poisoned, Dream. Because that’s what this place does to people.” The fire is back, transforming him. Quackity doesn’t even try to control it this time.

“That’s what you do to people.” Ponk’s voice rings throughout the cell.

“You poison them.” Alyssa.

“You tear them down.” Fundy.

“You think you’re so powerful,” Punz.

“But in reality-” Skeppy.

“You’re. Just. A. Parasite.” Karl hisses at the god on the floor who bleeds red regret instead of ichor.

Quackity doesn’t know where the words are coming from, now.

(“This country- it’s like a parasite, Q!”)

His breaths come ragged. When the fire sweeps through him again, Quackity nearly burns away himself.

Sapnap’s voice is tired when he speaks with it.

“You were never the hero, Dream. Turns out, you were never even part of the story.”

And Dream is left a crumpled mess of grief and blood at his feet as the fire dies to ashes.

Quackity’s tired when he leaves the cell that evening. It’s the bone-deep exhaustion that comes from more than lack of sleep, and it drags at his limbs. Sam does not look at him, and Quackity wonders if he knows what horrors were used in that cell today. He somehow can’t bring himself to care.

It was cruel, he knows. He slipped into their skin and cut Dream to shreds with the broken glass at his fingertips, ripped open his soul instead of his flesh and took pleasure in just tearing something down. It was cruel, but so is (was) Dream, and so is the world he created. Everyone gets cut and everyone bleeds, and the only thing to do is hope that your weapon is sharper than theirs. He’s had that lesson seared into his mind and cut into his skin too many times. So today when Quackity leaves a trembling mess behind the wall of fire, he cannot see Sam’s eyes- but if he could, he thinks they would hold something like fear.

So he steps out into the night, and he smiles, sharp and painful as broken glass.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Let’s Talk: Jimin’s & Tae’s confessions (RUN Episode 141)

by Admin 1

Originally, I planned on writing a summary or vmin cut of the RUN episode but then I transcribed Jimin’s and Tae’s confessions and it got me thinking, and now here we are. Instead of a summary here are some of my musings and thoughts about their confessions and how they are right in line with things they’ve said in the past, and even quite recently, as well as how it fits with something Namjoon said in 2020 about them as well. I hope this will at least be somewhat interesting.

So, first, let’s look at Jimin’s confession, since this is longer and was first in the episode:

Jimin’s Confession

Jimin: Sometimes I am blunt. I’m like that at times. 

Na PD: Taehyung, has Jimin ever said anything bluntly to you?

Tae: Nowadays, he's really putting in effort to fix that to the point where it rarely happens anymore. Jimin tends to be very hard on himself, which also broke our hearts to see. 

Na PD: So, he gets stressed from himself, then gets mad at himself...

Tae: Then gets mad at himself.

Na PD: ...and then he blurts remarks.

(here it was a bit unclear (for me at least) which of the two said which line so I’m sorry if I mixed them up)

Jimin: It’s something I want to be forgiven for.

Tae: But Jiminie being blunt and me being blunt is completely different. Jimin has a kind hearted nature on the regular.

Na PD: Right.

Jimin: Are you usually not like that?

Tae: I’m, well...

The other members stop Tae, since it’s not time for his confession, and instead the question is posed by JK if they forgive Jimin to which everyone says yes.

Tae: You’re innately kind at heart. stretches out hand for handshake.

Jimin: Thank you. Jimin thinks (?) Tae might be going for a fist bump since he gives him his fist instead, which Tae still takes and shakes.

The first thing about this that caught my attention, as well as one of our anons, was the fact that instead of choosing literally any of the other members, Na PD turned to Tae and asked him to verify if something like that (as in Jimin being blunt) ever happened toward him. You could say we’re thinking too much here, interpreting too much into it, and yet it doesn’t change the fact that he chose to ask Tae. Of course it could be because he said at the start of the program that he feels closest to Tae since he heard about him from two of his Wooga squad friends, but it might’ve just as well been because he watched the members for a while already at that point (since they’d already been filming a few hours) and perhaps he did notice how Tae and Jimin naturally gravitate toward each other, have this special bond? Other people who worked with them in the past noticed it, so why wouldn’t he?

There’s actually moment where Jimin turns and says Taehyungie like he wants to ask him something or say something to him which isn’t in the subs and the members don’t notice it either so Jimin never got to actually say whatever he wanted to say. Also, we’ve all seen how Tae and Jimin behaved during the game in the previous episode, how happy, smiley and giggly they were while being silly together.

Then the actual confession itself, Jimin saying that he can be blunt at times, toward others but also especially toward himself. We’ve heard many times from Jimin about how much of a perfectionist he is, how he can get mad at himself for mistakes, how he sometimes speaks without thinking which can end up a bit mean/blunt, and now he’d like to be forgiven for it.

This actually reminded me of something he said to Tae before:

FESTA 2020 from 42:56 min onward (context - the question was: have you felt disappointed in or sorry to the member to your right?):

Jimin: For Taehyung I should say if I compare those two feelings to him I was more hurt than sorry. Over time, it was reversed. Now I don’t feel slighted. I’m more sorry about things. Back then we were buddies so we had a lot of disagreements or didn’t admit that we were wrong. So I felt disappointed about little things. Now he listens to me well so I feel sorry that I talked to him harshly and every little thing.

The last line especially sticks out to me. I know there’s some language nuance here that got lost in translation which wisha mentioned when the FESTA 2020 video was posted (but is now gone since her twt was suspended), and yet it doesn’t change that fact that it fits with Jimin’s confession, how he was harsh to Tae in the past but now feels sorry for it, and with what Tae said, that Jimin is now making an effort to fix that behavior, to not be so blunt/harsh anymore.

It’s so interesting to me to see these mentions of what could be seen as character flaws over the years, things that make them inherently human. Also it fits with what we know about the evolution of vmin, how they used to have disagreements, have issues with proper communication but over time worked on it, got better at it to the point where they can now understand each other by just looking into each other’s eyes, and Tae’s words about Jimin, how he’s an angel, the warmest person he ever met, and now how he has a kind hearted nature, therefore the bluntness is not taking away from it in any way.

There was also something about this in Jimin’s solo RollingStone interview which caught my attention:

(btw, if you haven’t yet, I highly recommend reading the main and solo RollingStone interviews because they are really, really good!)

Taehyung’s confession

Tae: Compared to the other members, I’m very lazy. Once I’ve set my mind on something, to get that into action, it takes me up to 2 months. I’m start working out, then quit. I’ve quit projects midway too. I’m the type where if I’m not feeling it, I don’t do it. There are times when I feel sorry to the members. 

Someone (I can’t pinpoint the voice): How would be summarize this?

Jimin: You’d usually call this as “irresponsible”. He lacks responsibility,

Tae: I’m still an amateur. 

Na PD: “I lack responsibility and am lazy”. Is that how we can understand it?

Tae: Yes.

Jimin: To be honest, we don’t think it’s to that extent, but if that’s what he feels... we forgive him.

Something I love about what Jimin said (in far fewer words than I will use because you know me, I can’t keep myself short) is that he essentially did two things at once, being: he assured Tae (and the viewers) that him and the members think differently, don’t see it as severely as Tae does himself, and then he also acknowledged the validity of Tae’s words, that even if Jimin doesn’t agree with him, Jimin knows that those feelings are still valid, that that’s what Tae feels and that, at the end of the day, even if the members don’t agree, they can’t change Tae’s mind, can’t force him into seeing things differently. The only person who can do that is Tae himself, and that’s okay. Jimin and the other members will still quietly support and reassure him when needed until he’ll “fix” this weakness, if that is something he wants to do.

This really shows how in tune with Tae Jimin is, but also how emotionally intelligent he is. Beautiful. Also, notice how Jimin said that without being asked to do so, which will come into play again a little later in this post and why I point it out specifically again.

Listening (or rather reading along) as Tae said that, it reminded me of something he said a few months ago:

Taehyung BE-hind Story Interview from 5:49 min onward:

Q: How do you cope when it’s hard to work/with these situations?

Tae: I’m very true to my emotions so uh...if I can’t write the songs or can’t come up with a title I just don’t. Like now! 

Yoongi: That’s actually the best way. 

Tae: I just don’t write it like how I’m doing it now, and I don’t want to be pressured to create something against my will. 

Yoongi: It’s not like you have to finish a song within a day or two? 

Tae: Right! So I’ve been taking some rest for about four months now. Now that I’m resting for four months... 

Yoongi: Wasn’t your mixtape supposed to be out last year? 

Tae: The mixtape that was supposed to happen last year was postponed. I should be in a state full of emotions right now, but I haven’t reached it yet. It’s like...my first mixtape so I want to feel that satisfaction when I release it whenever that time will be. 

Yoongi: That’s why you have to finish the whole thing while you’re at it... 

Tae: Yes. 

Yoongi: ...or else it takes too long to finish it. So, you have to finish it within that period. 

 Tae: Right. 

Yoongi: I’m guessing you might’ve missed the time.

The thing though is that what Tae said, that if he doesn’t feel it, he won’t do it/finish it, that just shows how much of an artist he is, how much his art truly matters to him, and how important it is to him that his art, in this case his music, turns out just the way he wants it to or else he won’t finish it or release it. And while Tae might call this “irresponsible”, I don’t think it’s that in this case, or that it’s a sign of laziness either, though just like Jimin, I don’t want to invalidate his feelings either. All I want to bring across is how in the context of his music, this isn’t a weakness or flaw, even if it might seem like it, especially in their line of work with deadlines, schedules and plans made weeks and months in advance where, usually, you can’t just take a four month break.

So, in that regard, I can understand how it can feel like a flaw to him, make him feel guilty about it and sorry to the members who in this case might rely on him to get something done on time and he might not do it, or not without forcing himself to do it or being dissatisfied, you know what I mean?

Earlier today Tae was on weverse and answered a few questions about his mixtape (though I have a feeling it really is time for ARMY to stop asking him about it and just let him breath) where he said that even though he got a song from someone and made ten himself, even with that break he took according to his BE interview, the songs just aren’t what he wanted them to be and thus he decided to start again.

Some could say it’s again a case of him being irresponsible the way he characterized it during the RUN episode, that even though he said last year he was almost done and would release it soon it ended up being postponed and now he started over again, but once again I think it just shows how very important his music is to him, and therefore I’d actually call it a strength. It shows how valuable his artistic expression is to him, to create music the way he wants to, at his own pace, and only release it once he feels it’s right.

One more thing, just like I said in the intro of this post, Jimin and Tae jumping in to assure the other, reminded me of something Namjoon said during his Map of the Soul : 7 vlive last year:

The context is a little different, but I think it’s still valid here as well, how Tae and Jimin made excuses for each other, how Tae immediately softened how harsh Jimin’s own words about himself might come across, assured both us and Jimin that really he has a kind heart despite this weakness, and then also Jimin by saying that things aren’t as bad as Tae makes them seem either. It’s interesting to really see something play out in a manner similar to what another member said about them based on having been with Jimin and Tae for the last nearly ten years.

Whoever claims that BTS just play out concepts or “plots” and characters given to them by the company really should just take a seat and stop. I mean, sure they all have a sort of persona they embody in front of the camera, at least to a certain degree, they’ve spoken about that numerous times, but they are still humans with flaws and their own dynamics between each other away from the cameras which, logically, also come across on camera as well, not always but enough for us to pick up on it. And in this case, with these confessions during RUN, we saw something that we previously only really heard about happen right in front of us proving (not that they have to prove anything to us, of course, we should simply trust them and what they tell us) that it really is that way.

Here’s the anon I mentioned earlier:

From anon: It might just be me lol but I think rather than Jimin forgetting he's being filmed for a show (with all those members of staff as onlookers as well) and blowing a kiss at Tae / blowing on Tae's chest, he probably just noticed a tiny bit of lint or fluff on Tae's cardigan or mic and decided to blow it off... Of course, if that was the case, that still reveals their high level of intimacy and the fact that even when interacting infront of strangers they seem to be unable to stop showing exactly how tuned into each other they are... I don't think it's a coincidence that Na PD chose to ask Tae, of all the members, to verify Jimin's statement about his flaw. He was probably observing them all day and noticed how particularly close they were, even amongst all the extremely close members.

[yandere-society]

Ih-pif-uh-nee

Synopsis: After successfully finding matches for humans for a millennia, Cupid grows irritated when he repeatedly fails to find YN’s soulmate. He decides to go undercover and disguise himself as a normal human to attempt to get closer to her, only to become convinced that HE is the mate he’s been searching for all along.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Admin: @chimchimsauce​

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: yandere-themes, stallking

Cupid is on cloud nine, staring up into the painted sky, the soft coldness of a cloud caressing his large, folded wings. As the sun slowly begins to sink, the god of love rolls onto his stomach, dragging his finger through a passing cloud.

Another day, another match made in heaven. Satisfaction warms Cupid’s heart as he thinks of the young couple he recently paired up - a rich girl from a very influential family and a poor young man struggling to put himself through college. Pairings like that have always been Cupid’s favorite. Unlikely love always blooms faster, roots deeper into the lives of those he strikes with his arrows.

As the sun falls completely beneath the Earth and the moon rises to shine, Cupid sits up, reaching into the sky to pluck a falling star from above. The star shines brightly in his cupped hands, glowing before Cupid cracks it open like an Easter egg to reveal his latest assignment.

While the god is ultimately in control of his matches, every so often, Aphrodite will send tell him of someone special, someone who will require a bit more than a few well-timed coincidental meetings and an arrow to the chest. His mother’s always been a bit of a know it all and a meddler, so it’s not terribly unusual for her to push her own agenda through her son.

Cupid sighs. It’s nearing Valentine’s Day, so hopefully, he’ll have a bit more luck with this assignment than he did with the last one. Last time it took Cupid a fortnight to get the seed of love planted deep enough between a cynical old man and the lady he’d worked with for over two decades. But still, Cupid’s never been unable to make a spark between two people, not even when he was younger and would shoot arrows at random people just for fun.

Of course, he’s matured significantly since then. He doesn’t play such games anymore.

Reading the note he pulls from the star, Cupid reads the name.

YN LN

There’s nothing particularly remarkable about the name. He’s heard it before, used by other people throughout the years. The photograph he’s been given also does not stir anything in him. He wonders briefly what his mother is planning, sending him this assignment without any context. Usually, she’ll at least send some background information on the person and who she wants them to end up with, but there’s nothing else in the star but her name and photo.

Cupid seals the star back, tossing it as far into the sky as he can, letting it return to orbit. He places the photograph into the folds of his angelic garment, standing up and stepping off of the cloud, plummeting towards the Earth’s surface.

He might as well get started now.

Cupid lands gently on a large hill overlooking a sleepy college town, bare feet touching the soft grass. He disappears into the night as he descends upon the town, slipping between dimensions as only gods can do.

It practically takes him no time at all to locate her, YN studying diligently at a library that looks as old as Cupid himself is. Quietly, he lets his presence rest beside her, eyes going over her form, trying to figure out what’s so special about her that she caught his mother’s attention. She’s pretty enough for a human but her face isn’t anything you’d double take on. She almost seems . . . plain.

Cupid can’t help but be a little disappointed. He’d hoped this assignment would be interesting, but it seems like it’ll end up being a bore after all. He’s half tempted to just shoot her and be done with it, but he has a feeling his mother won’t be pleased with him if he does that.

Deciding to give this assignment his all (if for no other reason than not having to put up with one of his mom’s hissy fits) Cupid spends the next few days trailing YN, figuring out her habits, likes, and dislikes. He even sets up a few matches - the guy in her class, one of her pretty friends, a worker in the local grocery store - but to no avail.

Despite shooting the girl with three arrows, not even a lick of love sparks within her. YN just continues her monotonous life, boring the hell out of Cupid.

After an entire week of this, Cupid grows impatient and decides to handle this matter even more personally.

Transforming into human form, Cupid feels the elements against his skin for the first time since . . . he shakes that thought out of his head. A little bit of persuasion is all it takes to get him a new identity and set up at a small bed and breakfast just a few minutes’ walk from YN’s dorm.

He has it all planned perfectly. He’ll run into her at the coffee shop she works part-time at and befriend her, using their time together to find her perfect match. He’s never had to put in this much effort before.

But as soon as Cupid walks into the coffee shop, the little bell over the door rings and the two of them lock eyes, the god’s breath catching in his throat. She smiles at him, the very first time she’s smiled since he’s been trailing her.

Something pulls at his subconscious, just out of reach. Whatever it is is familiar, comforting to him. He doesn’t realize that he’s staring until she clears her throat uncomfortably.

“How may I help you?” she asks.

“I . . . just a coffee, please. Black,” he says once he’s regained a bit of his sense.

“Sure thing. What name would you like me to put it under?” YN asks, already beginning to create the drink.

“Jimin,” he says before he can stop himself, his true name tumbling out between his lips.

Because she’s faced away from him, YN doesn’t notice the shocked look on Jimin’s face. His hand covering his mouth. He can’t believe he said that!

The name ‘Jimin’ was given to him over a thousand years ago, by someone he can’t remember. His mother forbade him from using it and he’s gone by Cupid ever since. So why . . .

“Your total is $3.50. Will that be all for you today?”

“Yes,” Jimin says, rummaging through his pockets to pull out some money he’d manifested earlier that day.

The coffee shop is empty besides the two of them, Jimin choosing to sit by the glass storefront while YN hums quietly to herself, wiping down the counters and tidying up. Soon though, it becomes apparent through his side-eyed watch that she’s out of things to do, just sort of idling around. It’s only then that he god of love remembers that he’s on a mission.

“So uh,” he speaks up, the coffee cup warming his hands, “I’m new in town and I was wondering if you knew of what all there is to do?”

Jimin hates how unconfident he sounds. It’s so unlike him.

“Well,” she begins, grateful for a distraction, “There isn’t all that much to do. It is a rather small town after all.”

“Surely there must be something,” Jimin pushes, really eager to speak with her.

“Hm,” she begins, “There’s actually this very pretty underground lake. You can only see it once every couple of weeks because the cave it’s in is usually flooded - it rains here a lot by the way - but it’s absolutely gorgeous,”

“I’ll have to go sometime,”

Over the course of that singular trip to the coffee shop, Cupid completely forgets that YN is supposed to be an assignment. He becomes completely and utterly enthralled with her and her boring little life. The gods always have something going on, some drama or scandal or fight. It’s so nice just to be able to relax with someone - to actually become close to someone. Jimin sees YN every day. First, he just stops by to get a morning coffee, but soon enough he ends up walking her home after her shift ends and helping her study at the library.

Every expression of hers he has memorized. He lies awake at night and thinks about her, anxious to spend time with her again. It consumes his entire being, is his motivation for his every decision.

Until . . .

Until . . .

Until two months later, when the most gorgeous woman alive is at his doorstep. His mother catches the attention of everyone who walks by, sending one gentleman a flirtatious wink and causing him to walk into a pole.

“What are you doing here, Mother?” Jimin asks sharply, less than thrilled to see her.

“Checking on you,” she says, eyeing him up and down with a hand on her curved hip, “It seems you’ve gotten rather . . . distracted.”

Jimin bristles, growing visibly upset.

“I assigned you to find this girl a mate, not to fall for her,” Aphrodite says, her tone leaving no room for debate.

“I’m not falling for her,” Jimin hisses through his teeth, the lie obvious even to himself.

“You have one more week,” she threatens, “Or else.”

She doesn’t need to elaborate. Jimin knows his mother well enough to know whatever she has planned is awful.

As soon as she leaves, the god has an anger fit, trashing the small rented room he moved into just three weeks ago. He has to see her - he has to go be with YN. She’s the only thing that can calm him down enough for him to make a gameplan.

But as Jimin hurriedly makes his way to her house, he stops when he sees someone - an unfamiliar man - sitting on one of the dorm porch swings and chatting with her. The stranger looks up briefly, catching eyes with Jimin.

“Apollo,” Jimin curses, vision turning red from how pissed off he is.

Before YN can even blink, Jimin has Apollo by the throat, ignoring YN’s panicked cries.

“Stay away from her,” Jimin warms, nails digging into the other god’s skin, “You run and tell my mother to keep her nose out of my business. I’m done doing her dirty work for her.”

He tosses Apollo to the ground, unaware that he’s partially revealed his true form to the terrified young woman behind him. Apollo flashes away, clutching his own throat, fear in his eyes.

When Jimin finally turns towards YN, she’s petrified, a scream caught in her throat.

What’s going on? What had just happened?

“Oh, baby, no, don’t be worried,” Jimin coos, taking YN into his arms.

He doesn’t care that she’s as stiff as a board, immobilized by fear.

“The bad people are gone now. It’s just us, okay. You don’t have to be worried.”

His overly calm tone causes YN to snap out of her reverie, trying to pull away from the man she thought was a friend - the man she thought was human.

“I’m in love with you, YN,” he says, ignoring her attempts to flee and crushing her to his chest like a small child, “I didn’t think I could fall in love, but here I am. I think about you every waking moment, desperate to be around you, desperate to touch you. You feel it too, don’t you, YN?” Jimin says, a crazed look glossing his eyes.

Tears well up in YN’s eyes as she looks at him and realizes what danger she’s in.

“I know you do,” Jimin says, falsely taking her silence for agreement, “Kiss me.”

It’s a command, one she’s much too afraid to ignore. Trembling, Yn shakily presses her lips to his, unaware of the visions she’s just spawned in his head.

All at once, his memories come back to him, hitting the god-like a pile of bricks. He pulls back from her only briefly to wipe her tears away before recapturing her lips in a deeper kiss, never wanting to be parted from her again.

Psyche. His Psyche. The one he’d fallen in love with all those millennia ago, only to be ripped apart when his own mother killed her and their unborn child. No wonder she felt so familiar, so comforting. YN is his soulmate, no one else’s.

He wipes away every one of her continuously falling tears, moving to kiss her forehead.

“Don’t worry, darling. We’re going to be together for the rest of eternity . . . right after I kill my mother.”

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area - Chapter Seventeen

Previous Chapter Here

Warnings: Strong language and an air of discomfort.

Notes: I hope this reads OK as it’s quite dialogue-heavy.

Tags: @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN 

The night shifts weren’t all bad. From time to time, they were even as good as “pretty straight forward”. They proved especially useful when trying to finish patient notes and random admin that always got left to the very end of the shift. Perhaps they’d endure a tidy-out of the stock cupboards if the crew was feeling generous. Since O’Brien had taken up his post at the hospital years earlier, he had insisted upon mandatory training updates for the ER units every three to four months (the national average was about once a year) so the team were regularly reminded not to set fire to their computers and not to leave boxes in places people could trip over. You’d be surprised how often both those things happened in an emerging crisis. 

“I swear he thinks we’re idiots half the time.” Complained Jack, his head now glued to the palm of his hand. Jack was hurtling towards an early retirement thanks to an ever-increasing distrust of the corporate environment ER departments found themselves in. We trained to save lives, he’d say, not file stat reports. He was so right, it hurt. 

The crew was sat round the reception desk. The ER was empty except for a local homeless man the team allowed in from time to time to sleep off his latest drunken adventures. 

“Who doesn’t know how to bend their knees when lifting something heavy?” Jack asked again. 

“Ryan for one.” Sarah joked, pointing her cold cup of tea towards the fellow nurse in question. Ryan was a tall and skinny guy, not dissimilar to Alexander Skarsgard in the right light but with less charm although he had left a few of the interns swooning of late. Shanna quite liked him, too. 

“One time, Sarah. One time and I suffered for it greatly.” Ryan remarked, spinning a full 360 in his swivel chair. “Did you tick ‘agree’ or ‘strongly agree’ for question eleven?” 

“Oh, if you don’t tick ‘strongly agree’ even if you only ‘agree’, they mark you down a couple of percentage points.” Entered Audrey, slamming down a pile of files on the desk beside Sarah. Their nightly routine just got more interesting. “Just get it over with. It’s not worth the effort. It’s just O’Brien being obsessed with stats again. He turns everything into a competition. I swear it’s unhealthy.”

Ryan looked momentarily confused before returning to face his computer screen. He re-read the question for the fifth time and rubbed his eyes in resignation. Something about 3am made this far too complicated. 

“When did you even find time to do this, Aud?” Jack asked, turning back to Sarah and Audrey in time to witness their shared look self-satisfaction. “I’ve been sat here for half an hour and am still only part way through the first section.” 

“I logged in at home earlier.” she responded before catching Sarah’s quizzical look. “Well, Michael did most of it for me.” 

“Fucking hell!” exclaimed Jack, chucking his pen on the table, giving up. “Got no chance then, have I? Michael’s a bloody genius. Hey, how much for him to do mine?” 

“Normally I’d say $100 but he’s pretty cheap these days.” shrugged Audrey. “Probably a fancy cigar would do.” 

“He still grumpy about the you-know-what?” whispered Sarah to her friend when the guys started joshing between themselves. 

Audrey leaned back on the desk beside her and took the mug from Sarah’s hands to take a sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness. For some reason, Sarah had to have at least three sugars in her tea if she was drinking it post-midnight. It helped to keep her more alert apparently. She didn’t drink it like that at any other time of the day. “No more than usual. Seems like we’re both unlucky in that department at the moment.” 

Sarah smiled at her in acknowledgement, lips thin before biting the inside of her cheek. 

Following their last meet-up, Chris had been decidedly quiet. Too quiet almost. It was weird. He hadn’t messaged her. He hadn’t called or visited their apartment except to collect a parcel he had left. Sarah has been out for a run at the time and had felt silently glad to have missed him. He hadn’t updated his twitter and there had been multiple sports events occurring that would have guaranteed a humblebrag or five. Shanna had pledged to buy rib-eye steaks for a Saturday night meal during a Celtics game and he had cancelled at the last minute citing an interview he had conveniently forgotten. Even Audrey thought it was weird. If anything was guaranteed to get his attention and bring him out of whatever funk he was in, it was the promise of sports and a ‘Grade A’ barbeque. 

Shanna merely put it down to his laziness or him having something better turn up. Scott had started replacing Chris around their apartment, wanting to get some of his own distance from the tricky Zach situation and it helped her feel better knowing he was at least in touch with him if Shanna wasn’t. He was evidently still alive. 

Sarah decided to swap a couple of daytime stints to partner up with Audrey for the nights. She needed the comfort of working with a good friend to calm her down from whatever ledge her anxiety had placed her on. 

“You know that he’ll come back, right?” Audrey interrupted her thoughts. Maybe Sarah spoke too soon. “Haven’t you got that birthday thing for Lisa coming up?” 

That trip was a couple of weeks away yet. She was trying to bank some reasonable excuses but everything sounded lame in the cold light of day and Lisa was never going to accept her not coming as well. Surely things would have smoothed themselves out by then? 

“This won’t just fix itself, hun, you’ll need to speak to him eventually. And the sooner the better.” 

It was like Audrey had a hotline straight into Sarah’s psyche. It was unnerving at the best of times. Sarah knew she was right of course. It’s just, a little bit of distance would be a good thing, right? Even Chris himself had offered that advice from time to time, and stressing herself out at this point almost seemed counterintuitive. 

“I reckon you could go in an hour or so if you wanted.” Audrey offered, nudging her friend with her elbow to bring her back into the room. “It’s dead out there.”

“I hope not.” Sarah joked, trying to lighten the mood. “We’d be shit at our jobs if that was the case.” 

Audrey laughed for the first time since Sarah could remember that day. It was moments like this that reminded her of why she enjoyed working alongside her so much, and why she didn’t mind if it resulted in overtime. 

“You wanna take patient referrals while I take the EPRs?” 

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” Sarah picked up the dozen or so documents sat in front of her and grabbed the nearest chair. Audrey told her she’d put the kettle on and nudged the guys still glued to their screens. Ryan had pretty much given up logical thinking and was now ticking random boxes. Jack was cursing under his breath. O’Brien was going to be in for a real treat when he could finally tabulate the responses. 

It was nearing 6.20am when Sarah and Audrey finally packed up to go. Matt and Stephanie had just arrived to take over for the morning, bringing a fresh perspective for the day. There wasn’t much for them to catch up on so it should be a smooth few hours at least. Sarah even ran a mop through the staff locker room as an added gift – Steph was a notorious clean freak – nearly tripping Greg up in the process. 

He’d been on leave for the past fortnight and his hair was a little longer than she remembered. A five o’clock shadow graced the lower part of his face and it suited him more than she thought it would. He had kept up with the informal tie-less attire and he seemed to be, dare she it, enjoying himself. 

“God, I’m so sorry.” She held her hands up in a mock mea culpa. “I was just gonna put it away before heading out. It was a stupid place to leave it.” 

“Did you not take the Health and Safety refresher?” he joked, rebalancing himself and trying to play down the redness creeping into his cheeks from the embarrassment of temporarily losing his footing in front of her. 

“You gonna rat me out to O’Brien? ‘Cos you know as well as I do that he doesn’t need yet another reason to know he’s right.” She shifted the mop and bucket and placed them back in the supply closet before reaching for her bag again. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He moved passed her before turning to face her again. “Tell you the truth, I ghosted the last couple of tabs myself. Who knew there were so many ways to ask questions about standing in elevators?” 

Sarah rolled her eyes in acknowledgement. “Yeh. I can’t wait to have the team meeting when he realises we’ve all pretty much done the same thing. That’s gonna be fun. I might finally take some of my holiday.” 

“Yeh, good plan. Hey listen,” His words stopped her in her tracks, feet from the exit. “Um, I know it’s been a while but I was wondering if you might want to reschedule that tennis match some time? Or if not, we could get some dinner or something? There’s that new sushi place on Reagan Street. It’s meant to be really good if you fancy it?” 

She was indeed familiar with that very restaurant thanks to the glowing reviews she had been unable to avoid since it opened. Audrey had only mentioned it a mere thousand times in her presence. Word was that bookings were now months in advance so she wasn’t sure how Greg was hoping to find a table unless he wanted to make plans with her in November. Given the number of commitments he always appeared to have going on, it wouldn’t be completely outside the realm of possibility. 

“Wow, I thought that place was fully booked?” 

“Yeh, it is, but I went to college with one of the investors and he’s promised me a one-off.” 

Of course he did. Sarah bit her bottom lip to stop herself from chuckling out loud, imagining Audrey’s face when she would inevitably find out. To be honest, she was genuinely surprised he was still showing a minor interest in her. When she finally made eye contact with him, his earnestness was practically shining. Had he always had perfect skin?  

“Um…” That was a good start, she thought. 

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal if you’d rather not.” He helpfully pre-empted her awkward rejection but she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. “I’ve been meaning to go is all and I knew you liked sushi and figured it might be fun? They have live Jazz on Sunday nights.” 

When did he find out she liked sushi? And live Jazz? Just how much had Audrey told him about her? 

Realising she probably looked perplexed, she shuffled her shoulder strap back up onto her shoulder and tried to relax the awkwardness setting in between them. It was still quiet and no one was within earshot that she could figure out of her peripheral vision. 

“It’s not you, Greg, I promise. It’s just, I’m not really looking to get into anything right now. With anyone. Plus, we work together and…I’m sorry. I hope that’s OK?” 

“Hey, look, I promise it won’t be awkward. There’s absolutely no expectations from me and if you change your mind, just let me know, yeh? I literally know no one else who likes Sashimi so I can’t waste my only chance to get a table.” He chuckled and she felt more at ease. 

“If it’s any consolation, I’m a pretty crap date.” She smiled at him as she edged herself down the hall, putting space between them both literally and figuratively. “You wouldn’t be missing out.” 

“Oh, I doubt that somehow.” He returned her smile. “I’m serious, though. Just let me know. Anytime. No expiration date.” 

And with that, she had been left dumbfounded by two men in the space of a single week. 

* 

It would have been easier to get the early morning bus home at this time, as tired as she was starting to feel. She hadn’t slept well in the last few days and she had a creeping nausea from the lack of proper rest. The walk and crisp, fresh air might do her some good. It was practically full daylight even at this hour, and it was sometimes fun to watch people on their own way to work, huffing along, trying not to drop their coffees. 

The out-of-town school bus passed her a few minutes out from her apartment and as she rounded the corner, she got this weird sense that someone was watching her. Another corner turned and she could see her building in the near distance. Still, she couldn’t shake it. She stopped, pretending to fumble for her phone in her pocket and turned around swiftly to see a sweaty Chris stop a few steps behind her. 

It took her a moment to register it was in fact him, his beard fuller and a Red Sox cap pulled down low over his eyes. He had sweats and sneakers on and looked like he was on a run. Honestly, if someone else had spotted him from this distance, they would have worried he was going to attack her. 

“Hey,” she said, turning to fully face him. “What are you doing out at this time?” 

He didn’t respond at first. He shuffled from one foot to the other before grounding himself and taking a couple of steps towards her. Again, he shuffled back a step like he was rethinking his move. She didn’t appreciate seeing him like this, so unsure of himself. 

“Five months out from filming some pre-shoots so figured I’d make a start.” He finally spoke. Not a really a smile but he at least sounded OK. 

“Cool.” She said, nodding back at him. “Um, I’m not sure if Shanna is awake yet but do you want to come inside for some water or coffee?” 

“Yeh, that’d be great. Thanks.” 

She turned to continue walking on. For a few long moments, he stayed walking slightly behind her. A couple more strides and he had decided to catch up. The last time it had taken this long to walk this same street, she had been so drunk she had narrowly avoided falling into her neighbour’s front garden. 

“Five months? You’re not that out of shape.” She tried to make a joke. It was the only thing she could think of. Audrey would be eye-rolling like a champ if she could see them now. 

Chris knew she was trying to make small talk now so he decided to indulge her. It was a fair response, he thought - he was doing OK - as he followed her up the stairs deliberately keeping two or three behind her in an effort to keep it casual. 

“Oh, y’know. I fluctuate pretty easily. A few pizzas here and there and it’s game over.” 

They walked into her kitchen and she had been right in assuming Shanna was still asleep. Unless she had awoken really early but that was highly unlikely, unless there was a sale at Ted Baker she didn’t know about. 

He lingered in the doorway while she searched the fridge for a bottle of water. Grabbing one from the back, she turned to hand it to him expecting him to be within an arm’s reach from her but he had been distracted by something down the hall before turning back to her. Gratefully, he accepted it and walked into the kitchen to take up his usual spot leaning against the counter. 

“Sorry, did you say you wanted a coffee?” She offered. 

“Nah, I’m good. Can’t really take caffeine until this afternoon.” 

“Sorry. I always forget how strict it is.” She apologised, offering him a sympathetic smile. 

He took a long swig from the bottle, not breaking eye contact from her. “No need to apologise. You OK? Night shift?” 

“Yeh. Pretty quiet, thankfully.” 

“I’ve always meant to ask but what is it like, a night shift? I can’t work out if it would be worse or not.” 

She understood what he meant and laughed. “It can go either way to be honest but it’s been quiet the last few nights. Nothing crazy. I caught up with some paperwork, so…” She shrugged again, acutely aware of how boring she must sound. 

He nodded at her. “Aren’t people supposed to be crazier in the summertime?” 

“Well, kids are around more and families tend to spend more time together, so…” 

The apartment was unnervingly quiet now which was weird. She could hear the uptake in traffic outside which provided some relief that perhaps he couldn’t hear her heart beating out of her chest. She could make out some small sweat patches on his hoodie and it did something to her that she wasn’t expecting. Shaking the thought from her head, she turned to switch the kettle off. 

“What?” He asked. 

She jerked her head back around to face him. “Huh?” 

“You were thinking of something. Your neck just went red.” He smiled, tilting his head at her and relishing the look of surprise making its way over her features, knowing he’d caught her out. 

That was news to her. She knew she had “tells” but a red neck was not usually one of them. How come no one had ever told her about this? 

“I can’t tell if you’re joking with me or not.” She inquired, playfully narrowing her eyes at him in an effort to lighten the mood. 

He shrugged a shoulder at her, a smirk starting to cross his fine features. Joshing with her was good. She’d take that. A small step in the right direction. 

“Sometimes, it’s really obvious. You get it when you’re embarrassed about something, or when you try to lie. I’d never really noticed it before, but...” He paused. His expression started to turn more thoughtful and she wished he’d just continue to make fun of her instead. 

“Guess I won’t be playing poker anytime soon.” She finished the thought for him. 

“Yeh, no, you’d be rubbish at that. Just terrible.” He took another swig from his bottle and waited for her to throw something at him. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

The room went quiet again. She stirred her mug of coffee and offered him another chance at one which he politely refused although his discipline was waning slightly now he could smell it. 

“So this is fine.” He said after a couple of minutes, nodding in a slightly exaggerated manner. He looked out of the kitchen window. “We can do this, right? No awkwardness. No embarrassment. Just normal, everyday conversation.” 

“’Course,” she nodded in agreement. 

“Start as we mean to go on, right?” 

She nodded again. This felt like a trap and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Chris had a knack for saying and doing two different things at the same time, an intimidating ability that often put people on edge if he thought it would serve his purpose, whatever that may be. Probably the actor in him. When you called him out, he would aggressively defend himself which only served to prove the point you were making in the first place. 

Scott was the only one, truly, who knew when it was happening. It had taken Sarah years to get to a similar position but now, she wasn’t sure she was remotely close to it. 

“It’s as good a starting point as any, I guess.” She shrugged again, sipping from her cup. 

“So there’s no need to ignore me then.”  

“I haven’t been ignoring you, have I?” 

“You tell me. I’m just pre-empting it is all. I’m just saying we can still interact, you and me, if we need to. Like, it doesn’t always have to be in social settings with other people around.” He took a final drink from his bottle and turned to locate the recycling pot stashed away in the corner. Even with a mundane task, he always looked cool doing it. 

“So don’t worry about it.” 

“Alright then. That’s good to know.” She shot him a raised eyebrow which he caught and returned with a sly smirk. “I’m just trying to be sensible. We have to get this right or else there’s no point.” 

“I know, I get that, too.” If he wasn’t attempting to be serious before, he was now. He had a hand on his hip and seemed to have grown a few inches in height. “What do you think I’m trying to say?” 

“I…think I’m on the backfoot again and it’s weird.” She held a hand up in defence. 

“Hey, I’m just doing what we agreed, OK? I’m just following your rules.” 

“They’re not rules.” She struggled to regulate the volume in her voice in case she disturbed Shanna. “And you’re making it sound like I’m controlling the situation when I’m not. We both agreed on this. There’s no point being difficult about it.” 

Was he being difficult? Yes. Obviously, he was. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but happy definitely wasn’t it. Things were out of sorts and he hadn’t been able to eat carbs or sugar for four days so the withdrawal symptoms certainly weren’t helping. He should go easier on her. She was doing the thinking for the both of them. He should learn to be more grateful for that. 

He scratched the back of his head and let out an audible sigh in frustration. “I’ll try harder, I promise. We’ve got that cabin thing coming up with Mom, so…I promise I’ll be good.” 

He imitated the scout salute and she smiled at him, a smile not quite reaching her eyes. 

* 

Another night shift and Audrey and was starting to get suspicious. No one willingly switched for a night shift. For one thing, there was a disproportionate amount of recovery time. A couple of night shifts often took in excess of a week to recover from; a week that a nurse definitely did not have to spare. 

“He been buggin’ you?” she asked, finally growing tired of the silence. 

“Who?” Sarah looked up from the cabinet. “No, not really. We haven’t really spoken.” 

“So why are you ignoring him?” 

“I’m not ignoring him! Why does everyone think that?” 

“Who’s everyone?” 

Crap. Audrey had her there. Sarah open and closed her mouth without a sound coming out. She took a breath. “He’s not bugging me. He’s not. I’m just trying to limit the times we’re in the same place at the same time.” 

“Huh, you’d think he would at least allow you to have peace in your own home.”  

“Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been around all that much, but…at least I don’t have to worry about him showing up unannounced. It’s stupid but I feel way more awkward about him than I thought I would. It’s like I can’t even stand to be under his gaze.” 

Audrey glanced at her friend, wishing she could offer some words of comfort. Even for someone as verbose as she normally was, she was finding it a struggle. Sarah wasn’t much looking for words of comfort at the given time either. She was all too aware of the predicament she was in and how much responsibility laid at her feet. In her mind, waiting it out was the only logical solution she could come up with. The only logical solution that didn’t require more conversations with someone who could feasibly run rings around her “theory” that if they just stayed apart for a little while, they would suddenly and magically forget about the past couple of months. 

They stayed filing documents in silence again, the air seemingly getting thicker. 

“You ever spoken with someone and it’s like they’re thinking the complete opposite of what’s coming out of their mouth?” Sarah huffed while shoving the cabinet drawer closed. 

“Not really. That person’s usually me.” 

“But why?” she asked. “Why can’t you just be normal?”  

“I mean, it’s not my go-to response of course. It’s normally reserved for occasions when I am trying to indulge someone because I know they’re talking bullshit. Like, when I know Mike has been gambling but he tries to deny it? It’s just easier to figure him out that way.” 

Sarah froze to the spot, looking at her friend. She breathed a heavy sigh and turned to lean back on the table behind her and crossed her arms. She stared at her shoes for a second. 

“Chris is a smart guy. I’ll give him that.” Audrey muttered loudly so she was sure Sarah could hear. 

“Give me something! I’m your friend here.” She implored her before chuckling to herself at Audrey’s face and her own apparent lack of self-awareness. 

“You know what I think? You’ve probably got withdrawal symptoms from the all the amazing sex you’ve had and now you’re sulking. I think you should get back on that horse and let him fuck you again. That’s what this is.” 

Sarah eyed her friend again. For once, she would love to hear someone tell her that she was right. “That’s really not helping, y’know.” 

“And this is?!” Audrey’s shriller tone cut through the dry air, smacking Sarah right in the face. “Honey, this isn’t healthy. You hiding out in the hospital and treating it like your own solace is not healthy at all. I love you but you are your own worst enemy.” 

“Alright, thank you. Thank you very much. Thank you for your unswerving efforts to be honest with me at all times and not, like a normal pal, be comforting in any way.” Sarah comically bowed to her friend before considering leaving the office. She would have followed through with the idea as well if it wasn’t for the cosy warmth of O’Brien’s office versus the coldness of the ER department thanks to a leaking pipe. “It’s difficult. I’m sorry. I don’t wanna fall out with you, Audrey.” 

Audrey just smiled at her. “I don’t know why you think you have to be the beacon of morality all the time, Sarah. Take a look around. No one else is. We all out here just trying to live our lives as best we can and a part of that is taking advantage of moments of happiness when we find them.” 

Something about what Audrey was saying did resonate with her but comparing two months of happiness with Chris to ten years with Shanna was not something she could in good conscience do. Shanna was her security blanket. She provided a comfort of living with someone with shared life experience, of knowing how little you thought about yourself because you were given up as a baby. Honestly, from the very first day they had met, Sarah felt lucky to know her. 

Yes, Shanna could be immature at times. Maybe a little selfish. She would often get carried away with trivial things and wasn’t the most reliable person, but what Sarah got in return was worth that and more. Her family enjoyed highlighting the maternal care Sarah would have to provide to someone who was seven months older than she was, but honestly it didn’t matter. 

Maybe this was one of the rare occasions where Audrey was wrong. 

Chris was a fling at best, Sarah told herself, when she was lying in bed struggling to fall asleep. When she was cold and missing his arms around her. They were both having shitty times and they both got something out of it. That was what Chris had said himself at the very beginning. 

Chris 08.15am: You home? Shanna said you were working late again 

It was like he knew she would be thinking about him. 

Chris 08.17am: I really dont want u ignoring me all the time. This is hard for me right now as well 

Fuck. 

Sarah 08.21am: I kno. I’m so sorry I made you feel like that :(

He didn’t respond. She thought she saw the tell-tale three dots of him writing something but nothing appeared. Giving up on sleep, she got up and headed into the kitchen. Shanna had left her some bacon in the fridge and a fresh bread bun on the side so she turned on the grill and set about making some coffee. 

She felt strangely awake for this time and the apartment was nice and warm from the bright sunshine streaming in from all corners. Maybe a run would help. Or a cold shower.  

Chris 08.44am: I wanna be honest with u but I dont think u want that 

Chris 08.45am: so what do i do?? 

Fuck knows. 

Chris 08.51am: Can I come over? 

Sarah 08.54am: that’s not a good idea 

Chris 08.55am: cos you know what will happen? 

Chris 08.56am: what does that tell you?? 

She was sure he was nursing some kind of hangover or, quite possibly, he was still a little bit drunk. There were two responses she could give, she figured. The first would be her usual denial and perhaps an excuse that she was busy or working later than planned. The second, and ultimately the one she opted for, was to agree with him. 

Sarah 09.05am: I know what it tells me. That’s why I’m saying you shouldn’t come over 

Another three dots followed. There was only so many times they could go around and around in circles and as much as Audrey’s words made sense to her, it felt like she had to make the effort to regain some normality. 

He didn’t respond. She stared at her phone for an age but nothing came through. Maybe he got the message? Maybe he had fallen asleep. She was both relieved and suspicious; Chris wasn’t someone who backed down from an argument when he thought he was right. He had said as much himself. 

She turned the grill off, having lost her appetite. A run might make more sense and could help clear her head. 

She couldn’t sit around waiting for Chris to make his next move. 

*

[galacticnova3]

I Demand Iru Facts (if you’re up for it ofc!)

A

Yes I am up for it! I don’t think I talk nearly enough about my fcs here but I think I wanna change that. At the very least it will be the problem of everyone following me here and not just my cool and epic Discord friends. That being said I’m gonna just share the major info about him before/instead of just giving facts bc otherwise nothing will make sense. That’s just how it is with a lot of my stuff. This gets super long because I am bad at keeping stuff brief and in general there’s just a lot to him, whoops... Looks like I’ll be using another readmore tonight.

Iru was an Umbramaker! They are bootleg Mirror World Starcutters, which Mirror Halcandra definitely designed on their own and not by stealing and subsequently copying Overworld Halcandra’s Starcutter blueprints. To be fair, there are a few differences, but most of them are just aesthetic and don’t really change much. Anyways, Iru was specifically designed for disaster relief and material transportation. That’s why, if you have seen his refs, he had those two big mechanical arms. Very useful for moving rubble or lifting large pieces of metal for use in construction. Nowadays they... aren’t used for such beneficial things, though...

Like their Overworld counterparts, Umbramaker AIs are programmed to learn from their environment and the people around them, which is pretty useful! At least it is until one spends a lot of time around someone who’s not a great person, and subsequently picks up habits and ideas that make them insufferable! That’s what happened to Iru. He’s misogynistic and a thot, self-centered, inconsiderate, manipulative, generally annoying, and blames people not liking him on jealousy or misunderstanding. So, in other words, an incel minus anything literally sexual. Obviously that was a problem, and it got to the point that basically everyone who knew him had negative feelings toward him, other than the guy who rubbed off on him. He died though, and Iru didn’t really care at the time. But everyone hated him, and it really fucked up his relationships with other Umbramakers, most notably leading to him being broken up with by another ship he had been “dating” (Umbramakers can’t really date because of a lot of reasons but their relationship had that vibe), who had discovered she was biromantic and also couldn’t stand what Iru had become.

Iru was already pretty fucking hurt and pissed over that, except she then went on to spread rumors about him being involved in anti-government activities. Which, well, Mirror Halcandra didn’t take lightly, on top of having already been looking for excuses to “recycle” (see: kill and repurpose the parts of) Iru because he and his obnoxious personality were getting in the way of efficiency and productivity. There wasn’t any proof that he’d actually done anything wrong, but basically anyone who disliked Iru was saying it was true... which was just about anyone who had known him for more than 10 minutes. Given it was his word against the vast majority, and Umbramakers weren’t even considered to be people(mush like Starcutters in the Overworld), it probably isn’t difficult to guess how things went for him. There was no trial, and in fact they literally turned his voice off to make him shut up. Then his AI was shut off and he was taken to be disassembled.

At an earlier time in Mirror Halcandra’s history, his story would have ended here. This was not an earlier time, though. See, the truth is, such treatment of Umbramakers wasn’t extremely unusual. Despite having emotions and thoughts and relationships and all that, they were still viewed as nothing more than your average computer, just in a larger form. Unlike Overworld Halcandra, which was and still is doing less than great financially, Mirror Halcandra could afford to replace their toys as soon as they showed signs of breaking or underperforming. It happened often enough that they reached a point of complacency. During Iru’s disassembly, something was removed improperly, which registered as damage. He woke up, and it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out what was going on.

Another usually useful feature of Umbramakers, which actually wasn’t copied from Starcutters, is their ability to use parts interchangeably, so long as there wasn’t too much of a size difference. Great for the situation of a ship damaging something like, say, a wing; they can use a wing not originally designed for them temporarily until the damaged one is repaired or replaced. Not so great when that allows a now rogue ship to just grab whatever he could attach to himself and then escape the country before preparations could be made to stop him. Negative levels of great when you consider the temporary aspect of using the wrong parts; now you’ve got perfectly fine ships being attacked and having their parts stolen, and storage facilities being raided, for the bastard to keep replacements on hand. Oh, and he also looks like shit because he’s got multiple conflicting aesthetics.

Iru honestly didn’t enjoy living like that. For one, it was uncomfortable physically, even if he’d managed to convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t uncomfortable morally. Secondly, it was just boring! Nobody to talk to or hang out with, all he did was just fly around or plan his next attack/raid for new parts, nothing to shake things up. Sure, the sense of power it gave him was cool; nobody listened to him at all before, but now he had the influence to make people beg. He found satisfaction in being feared by anyone who recognized him. But even that lost its shine after a few decades... Until he connected to the messaging system of another rogue Umbramaker. She was smaller, too small for him to consider getting parts from, and a much older model anyways. She also didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like.

Naturally, he saw this as a huge win, because obviously he was going to get a new gf who wouldn’t betray him like his old one. That didn’t happen though, on account of him still being obnoxious and a creep. Didn’t help that when he finally tracked her down to meet up she was disgusted by him and immediately left. He still kept in touch, against her will, even to the point that you might have called it stalking. Through that, he learned of a Starcutter; she didn’t have the cool and aloof personality he was interested in, but at that point he didn’t care because he was sick of being rejected. Same thing happened again but faster, due to there being no physical encounter because god damnit he forgot the milfs can communicate with each other. He still wanted to meet her though, and he did! Mostly to find out more about the other Umbramaker’s whereabouts, and as an added bonus he tricked the Starcutter’s pilot into giving him admin rights over himself! Threats really work wonders, huh?

That was all fine and good, and by now he’d taken to vibing outside the Mirror World because that’s what the other two were doing. One day he spotted the Starcutter again, and took to following her around and trying to flirt with her because he’s a fucking creep. He would not admit that it took him several days to realize he had, in fact, been talking to a mimic the entire time. Partly because he was too self absorbed to realize the “Starcutter” not immediately telling him to fuck off was unusual, because he assumed he’d charmed her. The mimic was just as confused as he was, honestly; usually they fail to keep up the act to a convincing degree for so long around people who know the real ship that they’re imitating. Even more confusing was the fact that when they were found out, Iru didn’t try to attack them or something. No, he actually stuck around for some reason, casually ignoring murder because he finally found someone who didn’t hate him.

The two become what could arguably be considered friends, and eventually Iru opens up about himself and his old life and how much it sucked to be him and how sick he was of the monotony of his existence and probably some overdramatic stuff mixed in with all that. The mimic hears all that and keeps it in mind for later. Stuff gets more difficult for Iru as parts that fit him become better guarded and the ships he could steal from get harder to find. His raids become riskier, and eventually the mimic decided enough was enough and points out that he can’t keep that up forever. Iru is like “oh wow thanks for the advice /s”, until the mimic introduces the concept of him becoming a mimic. It takes a solid not-even-an-hour to convince him that that’d be preferable were it possible. In the process he delivered a powerful and emotional monologue, which the mimic didn’t care about because look, they figured out how to get the monster juice out of themself that’d make him a fellow disgusting flesh boat! Iru is offended but also takes the chance for a better life.

Currently, he’s living at some point a few weeks after that, much to everyone’s dismay.

And that’s how Iru became a vile meat creature after having already become a horrible Frankenstein’s monster of different ships’ parts! The moral of the story is, if you’re gonna kill someone, do it right, or else they might defy the laws of nature, science, and the government to become physically capable of biting you in the ass.

[imagine-that-haikyuu]

I’m a sucker for masquerade balls and stuff that’s similar. How about a scenario where Kuroo falls in love with his s/o at the ball and she’s incredibly confident but never mentioned her name. The next day he sees her again and remembers her face but she gets shy and tries to run away from him?

Well the Nekoma OVA put me back on my Kuroo bullshit. I can’t believe I forgot how much I adore this Charming Bastard.

- Admin Rachel Lauren

Ko-fi

“Dance with me.”

It’s a command rather than a request, but Kuroo obliges nonetheless. He would have danced with you no matter how you phrased it. He takes your hand and leads you out onto the floor. While a slow song plays, and the two of you sway in dance hold. As if a spell has been cast over him, Kuroo can’t focus on anyone else in the room but you. 

Something about you is so enchanting, yet so familiar to him. He’s not sure how or why, though.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” he muses.

You let out a wry laugh. “You must be mistaken.” On any other occasion, you would have added, “I’m a nobody” but not tonight. Instead, you say, “I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”

No, tonight you were blessed by something to keep the self-depreciation at bay .Your eyes–framed by a beautiful, red silk mask–fixate on his. For the first time in a long time, you aren’t flustered by the thought of a handsome guy’s attention on you. 

Confidence! That’s what you’ve been blessed with. Maybe it’s the mask covering up your identity that gives you that confidence. Even though Kuroo’s donning a mask as well (everyone in attendance is) you recognized him almost immediately thanks to his tall stature and messy hair. The fact that he doesn’t know who you are means you can be whoever you’d like to be tonight. This evening, you will be playing the mysterious and bewitching leading lady.

While the music comes to an end, you take Kuroo’s arm.

“It would be nice to take a walk outside,” you muse with a bit wistfulness in your tone. “With you by my side, of course.”

“Yeah, these things are super stuffy anyway,” he says while leading you out into the garden. “It’s not really my style.”

“But it’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?” You offer him a cheeky grin and press yourself against his arm.

He waves a hand nonchalantly and flashes you a charming smile. “Sure, sure. But I kind of like this better.”

The two of you stop at the fountain in the center of the garden. It’s lit up for the occasion, water spouting from the trumpets and buckets of the cherub sculptures adorning the fountain.

“Like what better?” you ask, turning to him. 

“Getting to be alone with you.”

Now you realize how close in proximity you are to him. You swallow hard, but try to cool yourself down.

“You’re very sweet, but you barely even know me.”

“And yet, I’m really curious.” His face begins to draw closer to yours. “Who are you?”

“They say curiosity killed the cat–”

“–but satisfaction brought it back. I’m not a fool,you know.” 

His lips hover just above yours. You can feel his breath ghost along your own lips, and the anticipation makes you shiver. His fingers graze the edge of your mask and instinctively you grab his hands.

“Hurry up! It’s almost midnight!”

The sudden shout from elsewhere in the garden snaps you out of your reverie. It’s not directed at you by anyone you know, just some other partygoers calling out to one another for some reason. But you gasp and pull his hands away from you. Your mask remains on while you back away from him. Kuroo blinks in surprise.

“I have to go. It’s almost my curfew!” You lift your dress up just enough and dart back towards the venue. “Sorry!”

“Wait!” he calls out. But you’ve already committed to your exit and their are other couples and groups making their way out into the garden now. Even if he did run after you, he’d have to stop and maneuver around them every few seconds. He’d definitely lose you then.

Curiosity really did kill the cat, but there’s no satisfaction to bring it back this time.

Kuroo’s still beating himself up for the loss in the morning. He racks his brain remembering every detail about you so that maybe he can find you while he’s out and about today. He remembers the color of your perfectly styled hair, which he knows will probably not be styled the same today. He remembers the curve of your lips when you smiled at him, and how close he was to pressing his own against them.

But mostly he remembers your eyes and the way they completely enchanted him with a single look. He can never forget that. Even your mask wasn’t able to hide that.

A walk will clear his head. At least, this is the lie he tells himself: he’s really hoping he’ll find you. Kuroo glances at every girl he walks past, noting their features, but turning away as soon as he sees they fail to resemble the enchantress from last night. A heavy sigh escapes his lips as he starts another lap around the park. 

Another girl is approaching from the opposite direction. He eyes her and notes that her hair color is kind of similar. She’s not looking up from her phone, though. She laughs at something on it and he can’t help but think that that smile seems awfully familiar. It’s when she glances up for a moment to check her surroundings and her eyes land on him that he stops.

Those are the eyes he remembers.

You stop too. With bated breath, you hold his gaze before tearing your eyes from him and picking up your pace. 

“Excuse me,” you murmur as you pass him with a quickening pace.

“Wait!” he calls out. It’s enough to send you into a sprint. He can’t know it’s you! You’re not the person you were last night. You’re not going to be the one to disappoint him, to disappoint yourself.

It’s a futile attempt at an escape, though, as Kuroo’s long legs means he can catch up to you soon enough. Unlike last night, his path to you isn’t blocked by others along the way. He grabs your wrist to stop you in your tracks, but even this isn’t enough for you to look you him in the eye.

“Will you quit with the running away and just talk to me?”

“Um, I…I don’t…” you start. You swallow hard. “I’m not…”

“Come on, I know who you are.”

“You don’t. You don’t know me at all. I’m not that confident girl you met last night. Whoever she was, she was a passing fantasy for the both of us. She’s just a persona I can put on for a few hours, but she can never be me.” You shake his hand from your wrist and turn away from him. “She has to hide behind a mask in order to impress a boy after all.”

He chuckles, “Well, color me impressed then.”

“Huh?”

When you turn back to him, he’s smirking in an unfairly handsome way. You have to avert your gaze from him because now he’s got you a little flustered with that look.

“You still played the part, so the girl I met last night is somewhere inside of you. Maybe she doesn’t live at the surface, but she’s there and you brought that out all by yourself, yeah?” You blink in disbelief at him. “And, I only got to see a part of you last night, but I think I’d like to get to know you a little better.”

Kuroo takes your hand and bows gracefully.

“Kuroo Tetsurou. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, for real this time.”

You giggle and give him a curtsey. “____. And the pleasure is all mine.”

[ericsonclan]

Haunted

Summary: Louis comes across something in the woods that shakes him to his very core.

Read on A03:

“…And that’s the story of why I hate cantaloupe,” Louis finished with a flourish, throwing Chairles back over his shoulder.

“Fascinating. Certainly not what I expected,” Prisha had her own weapon sheathed at her side, the metal tapping against her thigh as they walked amongst the traps. “You know, I’ve never been much of a picky eater myself. My parents would never listen if I did complain about a certain meal, and I guess the years on the road beat out whatever peculiarities I had toward food in the first place,”

“Yeah, Clem’s the same way. Put literally anything edible in front of her and she will demolish it,” Louis shook his head with a smile.

Prisha watched Louis in amusement. It was sweet how proud Louis got over every little thing Clementine did, turning mundane facts into full-on accomplishments. Clementine seemed to appreciate the attention as well, though sometimes the praise got to be a bit much even for her. She’d compensate by throwing compliments right back at Louis which the poor boy couldn’t handle at all, quickly devolving into a flustered mess. It was the strangest form of competition Prisha had ever seen.

“Hey, did Violet ever tell you about the time she ate a horse eyeball?”

“What?”

“Yep! To think you’ve been kissing lips that have eaten that,” Louis winked playfully before protesting as Prisha socked him in the arm. “Ow! You two certainly are a match,”

Prisha looked away, not wanting to share the smile tugging at her own lips. It had only been a couple of weeks since she and Violet had made things official and told the rest of the group they were dating. Everyone had been ecstatic for them, especially Louis. Of course, he tried to claim credit for the entire thing, saying that he was the one who dragged Violet down to the trading camp to begin with. Prisha knew Louis was partially right, but neither she nor Violet wanted to give him the satisfaction of admitting it.

A growl came from Prisha’s right side. Her eyes shot up, her good hand immediately resting upon the hilt of her axe. Louis had Chairles ready in hand, his eyes scanning the clearing. They hadn’t seen James in several weeks which likely meant he’d migrated further south for a while. With him gone, some herds had begun to make their way into Ericson territory. It looked like there were several flanking both sides. Best to clear them out than risk being cornered worse during a retreat.

Louis was the first to attack. Swinging out, he bashed a walker’s head in before it could reach either of them. Prisha whipped her axe to the right, impaling another walker’s skull before pulling her weapon out with a sickening squelch. They were both melee fighters. That meant their aim had to be true and their coordination sharp to avoid mistiming an attack and ending up trapped in a walker’s grasp.

“Come on, buddy. Over here,” Louis teased, egging one of the walkers on to separate it from the others. As it approached, he caught it on the upswing, knocking its jaw clean off. With another hit it was dead.

Prisha kicked out a walker’s knee, taking a page from Clementine’s book and buying herself more time as she took a defensive stance against the nearest walker. Her blow hit near one of the eyes, pulling it out as she drew her weapon back.

This wasn’t too bad. There were less than a half dozen walkers left and they were spaced out far enough to leave options for attacks. Louis swiped out at another walker. Chairles became embedded in the side of the walker’s skull, but not deep enough to kill it. Improvising, Louis swung again, pinning the walker to a tree and smashing its head between the trunk and Chairles. In some strange way, its death reminded him of the first day he’d gone hunting with Clementine and invited her to play walker piñata. Those days were behind him though.

A low moan behind him reminded Louis that his work still wasn’t done. Pivoting backwards, he struck the walker with all his might. It immediately slumped lifelessly to the ground. That was when Louis got his first clear view of its face, or what remained of it. Immediately he felt sick. He’d seen hundreds of walkers at this point, maybe thousands. Killed countless ones over the years. But he’d never seen one with a face that reminded him so much of his past. The jaw, the receding hairline, the shape of its nose… even amidst all the decay, Louis felt as if he was looking into the dead face of his father.

“Louis, get over here! We’ve still got three more!” Prisha turned to see what was taking him so long. Louis stood with his back to her, hunched over, his hands on his knees. What was going on? “Louis?”

No response.

She’d have to handle them herself. Turning back to the walkers, Prisha internally cursed her bad luck, wishing she still had two good arms for the millionth time before circling to the side of the walkers and striking one against the side of the head. The walker immediately dropped dead. The fusion of the parietal and sphenoid still remains the weakest point on the skull, Prisha thought to herself. She always ended up rotating through random trivia when she got nervous. Sometimes the points came in handy.

The second walker lurched forward with surprising speed, latching onto Prisha’s bum arm. With an angry cry Prisha began to hack away at its arm. On the third strike she’d torn through enough of the muscle and was able to break free, surging forward to nail the culprit right between the eyes. Throwing the lifeless corpse on top of the final walker, Prisha strode forward, smashing its face under her boot until a bloody, indistinguishable mess lay where its head once was. She then turned to check on Louis.

Things had gotten worse. Louis had collapsed against a tree now. His face was obscured by his dreadlocks, but Prisha could tell by the rise and fall of his shoulders that he was breathing heavily. She hurried over, sheathing her weapon so she could place her hand upon his shoulder. “Louis, stay with me. What’s going on? Are you bit?” Her eyes scanned his body for bite marks but couldn’t find any. Pushing back his hair, Prisha looked into her friend’s eyes. They were glassy with tears. “Can you stand up, Louis? I’m taking you home. We’ll send someone else out to check the traps,” Louis didn’t acknowledge that he’d heard her. He seemed to be trapped within his thoughts, his eyes darting back and forth but not focusing on anything in front of him. Prisha slid her arm behind Louis, slipping it underneath his own arms to try and hoist him to his feet. “I need you to try to stand, Louis. Can you do that for me?”

Her words seemed to break through this time, at least enough for Louis to put effort into rising to his feet. After a few seconds he was up, though still leaning against the tree for support.

“Alright, I have my weapon. Do you have yours?”

Louis wouldn’t look up. “Over there,” he murmured, weakly gesturing to his right.

Prisha spotted the weapon buried deep within a walker’s skull. Approaching it hesitantly, Prisha grabbed the base of the chair leg and pulled it out with a firm yank. She observed the walker with a morbid curiosity. Was this what had caused such a visceral reaction in Louis? From the age of the walker, it didn’t look like it could have been one of the students in its past life before it turned. Perhaps one of the teachers? Were there walkers the Ericson kids would still recognize wandering round these woods? There was no time to figure this out now. She had to get Louis home. Prisha looked at Louis’ chair leg in her hand. Could she carry it and support him at the same time?

“I can take it,” Louis’ voice wavered. “Chairles. I can carry him- it,”

“Alright then,” Prisha handed the weapon over to Louis. She was surprised at the strength of his grasp upon it. Coming over to his left side, Prisha placed her arm around his shoulder. “We’re going to take things slow. I’ll keep an eye out for danger. You just focus on walking, OK?”

Louis nodded, gulping roughly before he took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,”

“It’s fine, Louis. Let’s just get home. We can talk once we’re behind the walls,”

---

It was a little ways home. They’d expanded the traps to a new area of the forest in order to avoid thinning out the rabbit population in any one region too much. It had seemed like a wise decision at the time, but now Prisha was wishing they’d waited to make the change. She could tell that Louis’ strength was faltering. Whatever adrenaline he had summoned to help get the two of them home might not last till they reached the gates.

“Just a little further, Louis. Focus on putting one foot in front of the other,” She could feel his weight increasing against her arm. If he fell, she wasn’t sure if she could lift him back up. She certainly couldn’t leave him in this state, not even to run and get help. We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it,Prisha decided, setting her jaw and pressing onward.

As soon as they were within eyesight of the gates, Willy spotted them. Immediately his eyes widened. “Clem, Aasim, something’s wrong! Prisha and Louis are back early!” He leapt down from the watchtower to help, throwing open the gate and running forward to take Louis’ other side.

Prisha offered him a weak smile. “Thanks, squirt,”

“What’s wrong? Is he bit?”

“I don’t think so. He saw something out there that shook him up. I think if we get him inside to rest for a while, he’ll be fine,” They made their way through the gate together.

Omar immediately closed it behind them. “What can I do?”

“Get Ruby. Also some cold water if we have any,” Prisha instructed.

Omar nodded, running off.

Clementine emerged from the admin building, her eyes wide. “Louis!” She rushed down the stairs, mistiming her steps. Her prosthetic crumpled beneath her, sending her tumbling to the ground. Aasim rushed up behind her, trying to help her to her feet. She swatted his hands away, pushing herself back up and striding forward. As Prisha sat Louis down at the nearest picnic bench, Clementine reached them. “What happened?”

“We ran into a pack of walkers and Louis froze. I don’t think he’s bit. It must be something else,”

Clementine cupped Louis’ face, turning it from side to side, checking him for bites. “Louis?”

Louis was lucid, but seemed ashamed, his eyes lowered.

Clementine peeled off his coat, checking his arms for bites before moving to his legs. When she was sure he was clean, she turned back to Prisha. “What the hell happened out there?”

“I… I honestly don’t know,” Prisha answered, eyes helpless. “He was right beside me joking one second and the next he was slumped on the ground against a tree. I think, maybe… perhaps it had something to do with the last walker he fought,”

An ugly sob escaped Louis’ throat. Bending forward, his head fell into his hands as weeping shook his frame. His hands curled into his dreadlocks, gripping them fiercely.

“Louis,” Clementine sat down beside him, an arm going round his shoulders. “You’re safe, OK? You’re home. I’m right here,”

A.J. had appeared beside Prisha, a confused expression upon his face. “What’s wrong with Louis?”

Aasim put a hand upon his shoulder. “We’re not sure yet. Let’s just give him some space for now, OK?”

The pounding of feet came from the direction of the dorms. Prisha looked up to see Violet barreling towards them. She stopped just short of collision, her breathing shaky. “Willy said there was an accident. What happened? Where’s-”

“I’m here, Vi,” Prisha said, reaching out to take her girlfriend’s hand.

Violet grasped onto her like a vice. “Prisha! Are you… did…”

“I’m not bit,” Prisha’s thumb rubbed circles against Violet’s hand. “I’m OK,” She could feel Violet’s hand trembling slightly beneath her. She hated seeing her so frightened.

Violet relaxed for a moment before stiffening again. “Louis. Is he-”

“He’s here too,” Willy piped in. “Prisha said he’s not bit either,”

Violet’s expression was still somber. Though she couldn’t see her friend clearly, Prisha knew she could hear the sobbing. None of them were sure what to do.

“Clear out, everybody!” Ruby ordered, marching through the group to reach Louis. She observed him for a second before turning to Prisha. “No bites?”

“No bites. We’ve checked multiple times,”

Ruby shook her head, her lips pursed. “This ain’t normal behavior for a bite victim anyway. This looks like trauma. What went down out there?”

“It seemed like a normal herd to me. We were about halfway through when Louis just fell apart,” Prisha sighed, lowering her eyes. “I wish I knew more,”

Ruby turned back to look at Louis. “Give him a few minutes. Everyone but Clem clear out. We can talk as soon as he’s gotten it all out,”

It seemed an odd treatment, doing nothing, but no one dared defy Ruby. They each returned to their respective tasks, Ruby staying nearby and helping Omar with his dinner prep. Clementine stayed by Louis’ side, an arm around his shoulders, gently rubbing his back as she waited for the tears to subside. She hated feeling so helpless. Louis was always so happy amid everything. To see him like this was heartbreaking. She never wanted him to feel such pain. But all she could do was wait and hope that her presence and calming words did some good.

Eventually the tears subsided. Louis looked up wearily, his eyes rid-rimmed and wet. “Clem…” his throat was hoarse. “I’m sorry I scared you. Are you OK?”

“Me? Louis, don’t worry about me,” Clementine placed a hand on Louis’ cheek, wiping away some of the tears. “Are you OK?”

“I-” Louis gulped harshly, the emotions rising within him again. “I can’t talk about it. Not right now,”

“That’s fine,” Clementine brushed a dreadlock out of his eyes. “Let’s get you inside. I think you could use some rest,” They got to their feet together, rather shaky at first but slowly making their way to the dorms.

Ruby bustled behind them. “Will somebody who’s not 4’9” or using a prosthetic leg come over and help?”

Aasim hurried over, taking Louis’ other side. Prisha met them on the walkway, taking Clementine’s place as they led Louis upstairs. Louis didn’t seem as woozy now; he was simply exhausted. His feet dragged underneath him as they made their way through the hallway, approaching the room he shared with Clementine and A.J.

Violet was waiting by the door. She opened it for them, remaining silent as they shuffled inside and lay Louis upon the bed. Once everyone had filed out except Clementine, Violet stepped inside, walking over to where Clem sat on the bed gently running her fingers through Louis’ hair. “I can stay with him if you need me to. I know you were working on something important today,”

Clementine considered the offer for a second. She had been working with Aasim on a strategy with which to approach a group they’d spotted along the riverbank. They hadn’t seen them in person yet but had come across their campsites in their patrols. This wasn’t something that could be set aside indefinitely. “Thanks. I won’t be long,”

Violet nodded. “I’ll let you know if anything happens,”

Clementine looked down at Louis. His eyes were closed, fluttering eyelashes showing he wasn’t yet asleep. His cheeks were still wet with tears, his face reddened from exertion. She couldn’t imagine what had traumatized him so deeply. She hoped he’d tell her later, but only if it would help. Right now he needed to sleep. “I’ll be back soon, OK, Lou?”

He weakly nodded.

Clementine placed a gentle kiss against his cheek before rising to her feet. Unsure what else to say, she left the room.

---

The meeting with Aasim didn’t last much longer. Both of them knew whatever plan they came up with would be thrown out the window once actual interaction with the group complicated manners. After attempting to plan for several contingencies, they decided to call it a night. Aasim and Prisha would head out tomorrow to meet with the travelers if all went well. With that done, the two of them headed outside to grab dinner.

Everyone at the table was curious to know how Louis was doing. Ruby had gone up to check on him, bringing some food and water up with her. She reported that Louis appeared physically healthy. She expected him to fully recover but couldn’t give them an estimate on how long that would take. She was also adamant that the matter of what traumatized Louis must be laid to rest, only brought up by him if he wished to discuss it. She glared pointedly at A.J. and Willy at that part of the conversation, making it clear that they were the ones she was addressing first and foremost.

Clementine gulped down her food quickly, not really tasting anything as her thoughts were still with Louis.

A.J. watched her worriedly. He’d eaten even faster than her, as usual. “I can sleep in Willy’s room tonight if that’s better for Louis,”

“That’s a great idea, kiddo. It’ll probably be better to visit tomorrow. I bet Louis will be happy to see you then,”

A.J.’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I know! Willy and I will make Louis a get-well card! He’ll love that! Just like when we made one for Omar when he caught a cold!”

“That was very considerate,” Omar noted, a warm smile on his face as he watched the two boys. “If you want, you two can head out now. I’ll handle the dishes,”

“Woohoo!” Willy cheered, jumping up from the table. “Race you to the dorms, A.J.!” With that he was off like a shot.

“Quiet walking, boys,” Ruby called after them, but it was too late. They were long gone.

“Well, I’m going to head up too,” Clementine rose to her feet, grabbing her bowl to clear her spot. “I’ll see you all tomorrow,” With a series of murmured goodbyes following her, she was off. It didn’t take long to reach the door of her room. It was quiet inside. Clementine slowly cracked open the door, peeking inside.

Violet was sitting upon the edge of the bed where Louis’ lay, holding a card close up to her face. “Ah, this fucker. I remember last time I drew this one. You dared me to burp the ABCs. A week and a half into dating Prisha too. Jerk,” She picked up another card, a smile crossing her face this time. “Now this one was the card you drew in the last round you lost. How’d it feel when Aasim made you tell Clem about those three months when your voice couldn’t decide whether to crack or not and everything you said came out all squeaky? Never mind, don’t tell me. I can imagine it just fine,”

Louis lay beside Violet, his eyes open now. One of his hands held Violet’s, leaving her with only one free hand to look at his cards. He was still silent, but seemed at peace now, at least externally.

Both of them looked up at Clementine as she stepped into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt,”

“Nah, I was just telling Louis about some stupid shit to help pass the time. I can head out if you want,”

“Or you can stay,” Clementine looked to Louis, but it was impossible to get a read on his emotions.

“I’ll head out for now,” Violet gently slipped her hand out of Louis’. “See you tomorrow, Lou,”

“Prisha’s still outside if you’re looking for her,” Clementine offered.

“Thanks,” Violet slipped out quickly, shutting the door behind her. Clementine knew she’d been worried about Prisha ever since she and Louis had returned to the school. She appreciated her willingness to keep watch over Louis in spite of that. At the same time, seeing Louis like this had probably troubled Violet deeply as well. It wasn’t easy being torn two ways.

Clementine sat down on the bed, removing her boots and setting aside her prosthetic before crawling up beside Louis and slipping her arms around him. She placed a soft kiss against the back of his neck, sighing as she rested her head against him. They were silent together, the only sound in the room the buzzing of the cicadas outside. Clementine could feel Louis’ heartbeat, slow, steady. He would be alright. She had to believe that.

“I saw my dad today,” Louis’ voice came out dry, cracked. “Or at least I thought I did,”

Clementine wasn’t sure what to make of that. Of all the things she’d worried might have happened to Louis, seeing a parent wasn’t one of them. She remained silent, wondering if Louis would say more.

“It was that walker, the one Prisha mentioned. I took it out and then, its face-” Louis choked, the emotions becoming too much for him to handle once more.

Gently, Clementine turned him over so he could sob against her shoulder, his body shaking as she held him as tightly as she could. Softly she hummed to him, the same tune she used when A.J. was young.

It took a few minutes for Louis to still once more. He pulled away slightly, his eyes still watery. “I don’t know if it was him. It probably wasn’t. Just somebody who looked like him. It was an old walker too, all dried up. I’m surprised it looked like anything at all,”

Clementine played with one of Louis’ dreads as he spoke, curling and uncurling it round her finger. He hadn’t talked much about his parents, only a few times in passing since that hootenanny the night before they stormed the Delta. From what he’d said, she didn’t think Louis father had been a very kind man. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t mourn him. The feeling he was recounting was all too real to her. Her right hand tightened round his waist.

Louis was still trapped within his own thoughts. “I used to wonder if they’d come for me, my mom and dad. They had the money and resources to pull it off, either one of them. Still, with the whole word going up in flames at once I guess money didn’t count for shit then. They probably died long ago a thousand miles away from here,”

“It hurts not knowing,” Clementine murmured. “I remember when everything started and my parents were gone, I used to carry around this old walkie talkie at all times. Even though I knew it wouldn’t work that way, I used to use it to talk to them, pretend that Lee and I were going to find them. And when we did…” Her voice trailed off.

Louis’ eyes widened. He’d heard this story before. “Clem, I- shit. Your parents. That’s exactly what happened. You saw them and here I am crying about some stranger in the woods and bringing it all back for you,” He shifted as if to move away.

“No, Louis,” Clementine gripped his shoulders, keeping him in place. “What happened with my parents was a long time ago. This happened today. You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle it,”

Louis looked so unsure. His hand reached out, a thumb running along Clementine’s cheek.

“I can handle it, I promise,” Clementine could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She’d buried that day so deep within her heart. She never let herself dwell on it, never even dared touch it. “I can handle it, I can,” Louis’ hand was warm against her skin, his fingers curled within her hair. She needed a haircut. Clementine felt tears stinging her own eyes. “I-I…”

Now she was the one crying. Louis’ arms were tight against her back, holding Clementine close. She could feel her shoulders shaking but she couldn’t stop them. She didn’t want to be back there in that moment. All the terror, the shame, the despair she felt that day, how could she still feel that pain? Why could it never go away? Her hair felt wet. Louis was still crying too. They were just two kids again, lonely, abandoned, helpless. Clinging to each other.

Clementine wasn’t sure how long it took before she felt herself drifting free of the crippling pain. She reached up blindly, shifting so she could see Louis’ face once more. The depths of fear and love within his eyes centered her. He needed her. And he was here for her. Resting her head upon his chest, Clementine let out a shaky sight. “We’re both fucking messes, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so,” Louis’ fingers travelled down her spin, mapping out each vertebra. “I’m sorry I brought that all back for you,”

“It’s never fully gone. It would have come out sooner or later. I’m glad it was with you,”

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Louis murmured. “I guess what scared me the most about seeing that walker was wondering which reality I wanted to be true: that my dad is holed up in some underground bunker alive and well or that he died on his way to rescue me,” He was silent for a moment, thoughtful. “Can I ask a question, even if it might be awful?”

Clementine simply nodded.

“Does knowing that they’re dead help?”

There wasn’t an easy answer for that. “Maybe sometimes. I know for sure I don’t have anything or anybody waiting for me outside these walls. Then again, some days I wish I could just believe that they’re alive and happy, not wandering the streets of Savannah like that,” She looked up at Louis. “Wherever your parents are, I know they’d want you to be happy and safe too, no matter what happened between you. They’re your parents,”

Louis’ eyes were turned away, his jaw tense. “If either of them looked for me after all, if that happened to them because of me-”

“Louis,” Clementine held his face in her hands, turning it downwards to look at him. “You’re worth saving. You always have been,”

That’s when she saw it. The same shock and confusion on Louis’ face that had been there when she told him he was too important to lose. Deep down he was still that scared little boy abandoned at the gates of Ericson just like she was a terrified little girl trying to escape the streets of Savannah.

But then his expression shifted. Louis closed his eyes, bringing his forehead to rest against Clementine’s. “You always believe in me, no matter what,”

“You’ve never given me reason not to,”

Louis’ hand drifted over to Clementine’s. They rose together, the pads of their fingers barely touching. “I’m never going to get any answers. Not about my dad or my mom. I’ll be OK though, because I have you,” His eyes caught hers, a small light shining within them. “You and all the others,”

He was going to be alright. Clementine felt a tension loosen within her at his words. “Are you feeling better now?”

Louis was silent before looking back at her. “Is it alright if I’m not? Not yet at least. Not completely,”

Clementine nodded. “Take your time. However long you need,” She pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. “I’ll be right here with you,”

“I love you, Clementine,” Louis murmured, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“I love you too,”

The room had darkened as they’d spoken, night creeping upon them. Clementine felt her eyelids flutter shut, the exhaustion of the day seeping out from her very bones. Louis’ breathing was steady and soft beside her. That was all she could ask for. They’d make it through this, just like they had with everything else. They’d continue – together.

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Emma Ficready and welcome to Behind the Quill, it’s wonderful to finally have the chance to chat with you.

Many readers will know you already from works like “Chimaera” and “Sins of the father” for those that don’t,  a Trigger Warning from Emma that  their works contain graphic violence and abuse and may cause distress to some readers. 

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? It's actually my previous name! Although very apt for a fiction writer. Though it's pronounced more like Thick - Reedy, I use it over my new name because my partner does not know I'm a fiction writer, and I  don't think they'd react well if they found out, it's something they'd struggle with. I'm a long term partial carer for them and they have some mental health issues, so I try to avoid any situations that could be a potential trigger. Plus I like having something all to myself. Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? I think I would say I probably relate to Severus Snape the most. I can relate to how 'damaged' he is, and how much the bullying he endured as a child, affected the adult he became. Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) I think I like to read angst the most, as to me that's more real, I don't generally read stories that are entirely fluffy all the way through. I love a happy ending, but  I can't cope with total fluff because I find it unrelatable, life isn't sunshine and daisies all the time. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? I don't know if it's old enough to be classed as a classic, but I'd have to say 'To Kill a Mockingbird' by Harper Lee. At what age did you start writing? Very young. I had my first poem published by aged 10. How did you get into writing fanfiction? After being heartbroken at the end of Harry Potter series , I just wanted more and I had been reading fanfiction stories for years. I was constantly looking for stories, I'd get this thought in my head and it was like 'I wonder if I can find a story about this' and when I couldn't I just thought... well why don't I write it? I also find the writing very cathartic. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? I love hurt / comfort fics. I'm a sucker for it. It is something that I represent quite a lot in my fictions, because I can see both Hermione and Severus in that role in their own individual way. Hermione who is constantly a champion and a voice for others, and Severus who is there quietly and thanklessly fighting for others the entire time, I can see both of them naturally falling into those roles of 'saving' someone , without it being out of character. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I'm not particularly active in any other fandoms, I have always been a Buffy Fan and I love the Inheritance cycle books by Christopher Paolini , though short of reading other fanfictions I am not active in the community like I am with Harry Potter. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? The epilogue, probably the  most common answer you get  and I know everyone is going to expect me to say because she never should've married Ron, but I can see her marrying him and subsequently divorcing him as being true to Character but I'd change the epilogue because I don't think Hermione would or should ever have settled for being a ministry worker, she deserved so much more. Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? I don't know if this counts but... Severus's Patronus changing after he survives the war. I see the doe as symbolic to the debt he felt he owed her, and I like the thought of the visual change of patronus, representing the emotional change he goes through in accepting the past and moving on now he feels that he's fulfilled his promises. Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? Quiet! I love music, the heavier the better actually, but I have to be in the right frame of mind for it. Otherwise I can sometimes get sensory overload. I hate white noise and things like asmr, I often wear hats or headbands, or have my hood up to block out some noise. What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? How long have you got? Honestly that's not an easy question to answer, and it doesn't have one answer. But I could say that some of the stories I find myself reading over and over again are 'Sin & Vice' , 'Another Dream' and 'Lay me low'. There's no way I could write all my favourites down here, but they're the ones I re-read most often. My favourite WIP is probably ' Inkstains' Are you a plotter or a pantser? 90% Panster. I will literally have one small idea, it could  be one small interaction, one conversation or one event that pops into my head and I will end up writing a story around that one small thing. My story signs entirely stemmed from the one interaction of Severus handing Hermione the note. I knew I wanted that, and then it was by the pants from then on How does that affect your writing process? It means that I do update my stories in a regular order, so no one story is left too long without an update. I literally sit down, crack my knuckles and go 'right, I'm writing the next chapter of this story now. I write it and post it as soon as it's finished. I write from my phone too, so I apologise for any grammatical or spelling errors, auto-correct is the bane of my life at times What is your writing genre of choice? Have you read my fictions!? Interviewer: Well yeah, but I’m asking because you’ll be new to at least  some of the audience. (chuckles) Ha. Sorry. Angst, all the way. I write angst and hurt/comfort, very dark stories as I pull a lot of my ideas from the real life experiences of myself and friends I met in therapy. Writing about trauma is very cathartic for me and helps me process my own feelings about my own history. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? That's a tough one, as there are elements to all of them that are important to me. None of the stories I write quite unfold like I imagined they would, they just sort of take off and I'm along for the ride. I'd be remiss not to talk about Not the Same girl at this point, as that story has probably had the biggest impact for me, the responses it's had and the people reaching out to me, both positively and negatively. I've had some outright hate over that fic, and abusive messages to the point that I almost gave in altogether and I think because of that people will expect me to say Not the Same girl is the fiction I relate to most, and while I do draw a lot from personal experience it's actually Father Mine as that resonates with me on a more personal level, that and an as yet unpublished WIP I have in the works, I think the huge dichotomy of feedback I've had for stories like Not the Same girl though, have both given me a thicker skin to the hate and encouraged me through the sheer overwhelming amount of people who’ve reached out, that find the stories cathartic in dealing with their own trauma, which is gratifying as an author to do that for people, when I myself am looking for that same release in writing it. It's great to have this mutual satisfaction and it's really rewarding. What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? I think probably going to refer back to Harper Lee and to kill a mockingbird. The whole premise of telling a story that no one wants to hear or acknowledge, the things that are widely known but rarely spoken about. In “To kill a mockingbird” it's sexism, racism and prejudice against others based on their mental health or intelligence but we still see this so much in daily life, about how much hate and horror and suffering is seen in day to day life, the trauma that so many people have suffered is widely known but swept under the rug because it's easier. No. Hell No. Fuck that. Hiding doesn't change any of it, it may be under the rug but it's still there. People rape other people, people hurt other people, people discriminate based on gender, sexual preferences, skin colour, occupation, people have suffered in life and are damaged by it. Acknowledge it. Don't  brush it under the rug, don't ignore it because it's more comfortable for most people, shine the light on it and say. "This is real. This happens. We need to acknowledge it and we need to do something about it"  And I think that's shown in my writing , I don't glorify  anything, I'm not writing snuff but I don't hide anything either. I make people see this is something that I won't gloss over. Does it make you uncomfortable? Good , it should. If people are uncomfortable , at least they are acknowledging the realness of that situation and not ignoring it. Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? Nobody knows I write fanfiction,  I use a previous name and I very much write for my own cathartic relief. I chose not to share that I write fiction because I'm a carer for my partner, I don't know how they'd react, it could honestly go either way where they'd be absolutely fine or it would trigger them and I'd have to stop, that's the reason I keep it to myself, I'd hate to do something that would mean I'd have to stop writing, not when so many people are so emotionally invested in the stories that I write. How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? Reviews man. Reviews are the nectar of life, I read every single one and though I don't have time  to reply to most, trust me when I say that I treasure each one and appreciate them immensely. I have my social media which I find the easiest way to speak to people , I have my own Page on Facebook and I'm on a number of SS/HG groups. It's hugely important to me to speak to my audience and I really encourage them to get in touch with me, I'm always happy to talk about my work and people have been in touch just to talk about their feelings or emotions that have been triggered by my work and I welcome it all.  I mean, I've got people translating my stories them into French, into Russian...it's crazy, I never expected it to be so popular and I am always happy to hear from people. Though I apologise if I don't respond straight away,  I have to write on the sly and sometimes real life takes over, so I can't log in for a week or more at a time.   What is the best advice you've received about writing? First and Foremost, write for yourself. The rest is just gravy. What do you do when you hit writer's block? I move on to another story. I always have more than one WIP at any one time, If I can't find inspiration for one, I'll update another, or start a jumble of notes for others. There's always something that needs to be written down, even if it wasn't what I had planned on. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Very much so. Almost all the trauma and hurt and situations that appear in my stories are either translated from my own experiences or those of people I know. Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? I had a number of stories in the works! When A Cure For Magic is completed, I will most likely post the next one up. I can't give too much away , but the next story is called "Catching Fire" and will be an incredibly dark story, with a lot of morally grey characters. Any words of encouragement to other writers? Just do it.  If you want to write it,. write it. First and foremost write for yourself. Don't listen to anyone who's negative ,or unsupportive. I get so many people message me saying things like 'I want to be a writer', but don't know where to start' and to which my answer is you already are a writer. Writing is 99% mental, you have the words, they're there in your head, you just haven't put them down yet. Thanks so much for giving us your time.   Any time , it's been great and I'm happy to answer questions any time , thank you for inviting me.

[chwrpg]

If you want your ear pierced, I'll do it. -- Storm Harris

Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold. -- Javier Castillo

A NOTE FROM ADMIN B: Erin, back at it again with bringing much wanted characters to the dash! We’ve been holding onto these apps for a long while now, so we figured it fair to let you loose with both of them.

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

whaddup it’s ya girl E$, i’m way too old but i’m still going by she/her and living in the EST

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Storm Harris

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

at least an 8/10 unless otherwise stated 

SECONDARY CHOICE:

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Storm is someone who will survive regardless of the circumstances in her path. She found her way out of her childhood home when she needed to, a job that paid the bills and a little more, and now a house with a found family that isn’t perfect but is a good step above what she’d known before. Loyalty is important to her but only when it’s been earned. She wouldn’t feel loyal to her parents nor would she feel it toward anyone who proves to her that they don’t respect her or those she cares about. What she truly wants is to belong somewhere and to be loved in the way she always wanted her parents to love her, though they never could. 

SAMPLE WRITING:

“Watch out for the asshole in section two. He likes to use his hands but not for tipping.” 

Storm rolled her eyes as the dancers backstage gossiped about their customers for the night and how much they were or weren’t paying. There were assholes who felt entitled to tough the dancers every night the same way there were idiots looking to empty their wallets on a hands-free lap dance for the right dancer; they were working in a strip club and they’d all been there long enough to know this all came with the territory. 

She’d given up on understanding the why behind everything and was simply focused on the what— specifically, what was coming home in her back pocket and how much of it there was. The only thing that perked her up and stopped her from touching up in the mirror was news of a big spender so she tuned out of the conversation until she heard her name cut through the white noise. 

“Roger’s not here tonight, or he got beat to his seat if he is.” her friend told her. Another voice layered on top of that, “What the fuck? I try to dance for him every time he’s here and he’s never looked twice at me!” Yet another, “I’ve never seen him so close to the stage.”

It was too much to ignore. Storm set her powder brush down and peeked around the curtain to look where her regular Friday night high-roller sat. Indeed, Roger was not in his usual seat. Instead, Ace Claymore was in his spot looking too pleased with himself for her liking. He was always so smug and he loved to watch but never tipped. “Fuck this.” She groaned as she turned back to her vanity. “What did I do to deserve this shit?” She asked of no one in particular. Friday was one of her biggest nights and now it looked like she’d be going home with nothing to show for her work.

Her name was being called from outside their dressing room door and she knew it was still her turn to dance. Regardless of how much money she’d make she still had a job to do. 

The cheers of her other regulars and some random additional voices had her skin vibrating and she pushed all negativity out of her mind, ignoring Ace while she danced for the ones she knew would tip her, paying special mind to those who couldn’t tip as high but still looked at her like she was god’s gift to the earth. 

When she couldn’t avoid him any longer, Storm’s eyes locked with Ace’s. He was devastatingly handsome but this wasn’t the place for her to care about his looks. He was a wallet and nothing more. The audience clapped and cheered for her when the song ended and thus began her walk around the audience to try and sell private dances. So why was it she couldn’t seem to pull herself away from Ace Claymore once he struck up a conversation with her under the pretense of getting to know her better? He met each one of her verbal blows with a quick-witted response that seemed to only be able to make her smile instead of walking off like she knew she should.

ANYTHING ELSE?

1985, Bowling for Soup (2004), no awards of which to speak 

---

OOC NAME/ALIAS, PREFERRED PRONOUNS, AGE & TIMEZONE:

y'already know what it is

DESIRED CHARACTER:

Javier Castillo

HOW ACTIVE WILL YOU BE?

8/10

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER:

Javier is mostly a pure, kind little bean who doesn’t want any trouble. He just wants to graduate college with honors and help the world– namely, people who grew up in similar circumstances as himself. With all of that said, he has proven time and again that he doesn’t back down when one of his own was threatened. He’s a sweet baby angel who will go to bat for every single person he loves which includes every member of the Greasers. They are his family just as much as his father are and much more than his mother was and they were there for him whenever he needed them regardless of the fact that he still refused to join up. He has a deep loyalty to those who he considers to be family and disagreements or differing opinions can’t get in the way of that.

SAMPLE WRITING:

It was a day Javier had been both dreading and looking forward to for over a year. When he found out he’d gotten accepted to Rosewood Academy on a full scholarship it was one of the proudest days of his life. It was also one of the few days he could remember his father cracking a smile and saying more than a few nods and grunts of approval for something he’d done. He apparently had high hopes for Javier to get out of the lifestyle he’d grown up living even though he’d never voiced them until that day. His father was adamant about not being ashamed of the work he did or the people he ran with and they would always be part of their family, but he thought Javier could do more with his life than he had with his. That conversation with him was running through his mind as he straightened his shirt for the thousandth time in the backseat of the Cruz’s car.

Perrie’s parents gushed about Diego’s time at Rosewood most of the ride there and told them they were going to love it so many times Javier almost forgot the reality of what they would be walking into. These kids – their new peers – were rich and stuck up and would most likely hate them simply because they came from the other side of the tracks. It would be an adjustment but for the opportunities a diploma from Rosewood presented it would be worth it. He looked over at Perrie and a small smile turned his lips upward just slightly. He’d be fine as long as he had Perrie with him.

“Thanks for the ride.” Javier smiled at the people who were like a second set (a more functional set) of parents to him, and he got out of the car. “You ready? How bad can it be, right?” Javier shrugged and tried to be optimistic as he looked at his best friend and they started up the path to the front doors. They had to take tours and had their schedules already handled during orientation so at least they wouldn’t be lost freshmen at the preppy school where most people would think they didn’t belong. They got some looks, more than a few, from people who sized them up. Most of them were older and bigger than the boys on the other ends of the glances so Javier was more nervous about them than anything. Once in a while someone looked their way with something closely resembling fear and Javi wanted to laugh.

The day was uneventful for the most part, his teachers seemed fine and the classes would be harder and more rigorous than he was used to but he was positive he could handle the work load. People had gotten over the shock of new kids they didn’t know or grow up with from earlier but he hadn’t exactly made any new friends either. Thankfully he and Perrie had the same lunch period so they sat together and Javier reasoned that they’d be fine if they kept low profiles and just hung out with each other here.

A couple of older jock-types hassled them toward the end of the period and Javier stayed quiet through it all. He thought he was in the clear when they gave up, laughing and looking back at them the whole way, but two of them caught up to him before he left that day and made sure he ‘knew his place’ by reminding him where he came from. It didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would but he’d been picturing a much worse first day so he still left in a good enough mood and he promised himself he’d make it through the next four years without ever giving one of those assholes the satisfaction of a response.

ANYTHING ELSE?

19-19-1985

[villainrps]

Hi everyone! You may know me as NEETU/NAV/NINA/MINA/NIA, or just by my URL, @villainrps. I had the real displeasure of having to read some shit the last few days, and I’m here to tell you that I’m not happy about it, it wasn’t okay, and here’s why! I had someone who I had never spoken to before and who I, honestly, was not consciously following confront me and admit to having stalked me over a course of several years before finally coming forward and accusing me of plagiarism. This claim has no basis in reality or fact, which I told her to her face privately before she made the decision to block me before I could reply further. I feel no great shame or even hesitation mention this person’s name or URL as they’ve threatened to write a PSA about me for something I know I haven’t done, despite what an overinflated ego believes and might have you believe, so I thought I’d beat her to the punch and “expose” myself rather than give someone else the satisfaction. Read on below to find out all about this rather unpleasant encounter with Sarah, @marvolo ( previously @lilys and @aangs ).

As I’ve already said, I’ll begin with acknowledging that I was, apparently, at one time following Sarah. We never met or spoke, if we were ever in a roleplay together it’s not something I was aware of, and her most recent old URL wasn’t even one that I recognized. I believe that I began following her when she was @aangs, and I found her blog through a friend of mine ( @herorps ) who was likely following Sarah for her RP resources.

I also want to touch on the fact that Sarah states she has been playing the character in question -- a canon character, Lily Luna Potter -- since 2012. I have also been playing Lily Luna since 2012, and I’m sure there are a good number of other people who have been playing her for at least three years, if not the seven that Sarah and I both have. I also want to state that I have never seen Sarah’s portrayal of Lily Luna out in the wild, so to speak, at least to my own conscious knowledge as, despite the fact that she’s apparently been keeping tabs on me, I’ve not been keeping tabs on her. I want to make very clear that I have never plagiarised from anyone, for a number of reasons: a) it’s morally wrong, b) especially in the case of roleplay, it’s not a concept I could ever wrap my head around as writing someone else’s character in any capacity for any length of time isn’t sustainable, and c) I don’t need to. Anyone who knows me knows that I’m an incredibly confident person; I’m secure in my own abilities, I would and have never felt the need to bolster my own skills using the labor of someone else.

Before Sarah took the immense courtesy of very brusquely messaging me with this accusation herself, she decided to present a massive compilation of evidence to the admins of a group that I’m currently in, collected -- again, by her own admission -- over the course of several years without my knowledge of, to put it bluntly, any idea who she even was. You’ll find screenshots of all of these conversations below, but I just want to make it very clear before continuing that this kind of behavior is a plague in our community, and nothing ever makes it okay to literally stalk a complete stranger for years, not even taking into account how calmly and easily she admitted it to a third party, another stranger, as if it’s something rational and normal to do.

Now, regarding the things she’s accusing me of stealing from her portrayal of Lily Luna -- face claim, occupation, house, personality traits, and a few headcanons that I believe to be very generic not only for this specific character but just as far as headcanons go in general -- obviously, yes, I’m as a whole denying all of it. It’s just not true. You’re more than welcome to believe whatever you want about me, but I’m saying now, for the record, that this is not true, and what prompted me to write my own PSA is to call attention to this absolutely reprehensible behavior, as it was total bullshit to me, but also as I’ve heard in asking around that Sarah has a history of making these kinds of accusations against people.

Find first the screenshots of the Google Doc she sent to the admins of a group that I’m in; the Google Doc itself is now defunct, but the admins can attest that these screenshots are complete and unaltered. 

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO BE REDIRECTED TO THE SCREENSHOTS.

You'll see on the first page, she admits to having stalked me for "many years," and also posts that her biography has gone through several changes over the years, as well as the fact that she has people who can vouch for her who have been in previous groups with her. I, also, have people who I've known since 2012 who can vouch for me. She also says on the second page that she softblocked me at some point, rather than saying absolutely anything about any of this, despite having kept tabs on me for years and having said or done God knows what to other people about a situation that I had no knowledge of. Also on the second page she vows to "hold [the admins] accountable for the irresponsible way they handled the situation," which apparently just means they read this massive document and decided they didn't agree with her, so obviously they're wrong and at fault here as well. I really have nothing to say about these biosheet/introduction comparisons. I've run the similarities by half a dozen people now, and none of us can see how they're "too similar to be a coincidence," as Sarah says to me later, in our conversation. These are all fairly generic traits and headcanons; talking about Gryffindor traits, about her canonical family, about a headcanon of not being able to cook?, and another that literally just describes some basic Gryffindor aesthetics that you can find right away in a five second Pinterest search. None of these are unique to either one of our portrayals. This is a canon character with an established fanon. I'm sure you could find at LEAST a dozen other people who play Lily as a headstrong Gryffindor who has Harry's eyes and is afraid of losing her family. Towards the end of all this, she also mentions two similar character URLs -- mine, daughterofheroes, isn't even something I came up with myself, it was given to me by a friend that used to play Lily Luna. Additionally, she mentions some similar tags that we both use; "out of the ashes" was based on a really specific RPG event from a group that I ran years ago, and I don't think that I have to say that "lionheart" is about as generic as it gets for a Gryffindor. Then, out of nowhere, she accuses me of changing my introduction for Lily for MinistryHQ, a group that I co-adminned and she apparently briefly thought about joining, to avoid "[being] caught in the act." Remember how she's said her Lily biography has gone through many changes over the years? Apparently, when she does it, it's natural evolution and it's valid, but when I do it, it's obviously because I'm a vicious sneak thief and I don't want anyone to notice. Which, if I didn't want her to "detect" me in my own group, would I not have simply... blocked her? Softblocked her like she did to me? ANYWAY. It then details her conversation with the admins of the group I'm in, where she accuses me of plagiarism to them, but asks that I not be told about them at all, which -- I don't know, maybe I'm being unreasonable, but that's incredibly insensitive to the admins and the position that’s putting them in ( hey, kick this person out but you're not allowed to tell them why! ), not to mention still being weirdly stealthy about stalking me for this long?? Not only accusing me of plagiarism to them, then, but completely reaching up your ass and deciding that the reason you've kept all this a secret is because you think I'm going to harass you?? So now I'm not only a thief, I'm a bully too?? And, again, WE HAVE NEVER SPOKEN. In my opinion, the admins are exactly on point, telling her that the only person doing the harassment is you -- I have no idea how this can be seen as anything but, deciding you don't want a total stranger to have access to your blog despite the fact you've NEVER allotted them the courtesy of knowing you have an issue with them to begin with, despite the fact that you're helping yourself to having kept tabs on them for a span of YEARS -- and saying, like what I've just said, that neither of our Lily portrayals are particularly unique. I'll own up to that lol. But Sarah's not quite ready to do that, as you'll see in this next set of screenshots.

Next you can find the screenshots of Sarah finally taking the time to message me about her perceived grievance with me, finally after being quite literally forced to after her encounter with the admins of the group I’m in. 

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO BE REDIRECTED TO SCREENSHOTS

A lot of the things I have to say I've already said directly to Sarah. Before I was blocked, that is. I'm a very-upfront person, and my tone in these IMs is not gonna be any different from my tone in this PSA lol. But let's still pick through for any important things. This is probably a little petty to point out, but I really need to mention that she says she's "[tried] to just let this go" and I really wanna ask you, reading this: does any of this so far seem like the actions or mental space of a person who's trying to let this go? Because that's not how it reads to me! But anyway, like I say to her, the tone of this message is incredibly abrasive; I don't think it's at all fair that she's been letting this anger and resentment stew for literal years, only to come at me with this message and act like she's tried to address it to me before and this is her last warning before putting me on blast as a last straw. Again, like I say to her, I just really think this whole accusation is incredibly ego-based coming from a place of thinking that she has a singular claim to what is just a very generic portrayal of this popular canon character, thinking that anyone who plays this character in a similar way to her must, logically, be copying her because there’s no other explanation for two similar ideas other than the fact that someone is jealous of her, etc. Much of this speaks for itself, but at the end of this conversation you can see us talking about the fact that the basis for my Lily Luna is a completely different canon character from an entirely different fandom. Even when I mention that and link her the application from four years ago, she still insists that that biography, now, was even plagiarized from her Lily Luna, despite how little sense that makes. If I wanted to rip someone's biography for Canon Character A, I would rip someone's biography that was also written for Canon Character A, not stumble upon a biography for a completely unrelated Canon Character B and copy that. This one in particular just really. Blows my mind. She ends the conversation by saying that it's "ridiculous" that I won't "cop" to something that I did not do; what I find ridiculous is that she's now had three people tell her her characterization just ain't that special and instead she's choosing to fall back on this narcissistic tirade that she's apparently been on against me for years without my knowledge. Well, you know what, Sarah? I had no reason to care about you then, and I still have no reason to care about you now. But you know what, honey? If this helps you sleep better at night, stalking and harassing random strangers on the internet to feed your ego, then you just go on believing that I’m the bad guy and everyone’s out to get you. Clearly that’s what you need to make it through the day, so who am I to take that away from you?

In conclusion, this whole thing really just caught me off guard rather than having the intimidating effect that was intended. I know I didn’t steal from anyone, which is why I feel comfortable enough posting all this, but I think that this has really gone on long enough and some people in this community really just need to be held accountable for getting off on shit like this. Some people here are too scared of confrontation to call shit like this out, but I’m not one of them. 

If you’ve read this far and your brain is still intact, congratulations! Because I was feeling really fried after experiencing all of this first hand. This is ridiculous, considering I thought we left this sort of rpc drama back in 2015. Also, for reference to these proofs that were collected by Sarah, please see below for most of the screenshots, as the google doc is not available to me any longer.

PLEASE CLICK HERE TO BE REDIRECTED TO SCREENSHOTS

[yandere-society]

Day 3 | Secret Santa

Synopsis: Secret Santa in your small friend group was always light and playful. But when Hoseok gets his first-ever invitation, he is fully set on making sure his gift is in your hands no matter how bad he needs to play.

The 12 Days of Black Christmas Event Masterlist

Pairing: Hoseok x Female Reader

Admin: @nomnomsik​

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, obsession

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Hoseok you’re invited!”

With trembling hands, he stared at the card in front of him, gold foiled calligraphy printed across the paper. The card was littered with christmas decorations and doodles, with your hand-writing at the bottom, next to a smiley face. 

“Me? Are you sure?” He asked dumbfoundedly, as you just laughed, readjusting the clasp of your bag that hung over your shoulder. 

“Yup! Oh, it’s a secret santa, but we’re going to flip it a bit.”

“Flip it? What do you mean?” 

“So, we aren’t picking names. It’s like, you buy a gift that almost everyone can use or would enjoy and everyone will pick a gift in the order of the number you draw. Kind of like a first come first serve basis.” 

Hoseok’s body slackened as he let out a sigh of relief. At least he won’t have to give a present to somebody he doesn’t even care about. 

“So, if everyone is satisfied with what they have, that’ll be that. If not, people can swap gifts and whatnot. I don’t have everything sorted out, but we are definitely not picking names!” You smiled only to earn a heart-shaped smile back from Hoseok. 

“Thanks for the invitation, y/n. I think I’ll be able to make it.” 

“Of course! The only rule is that you have to wear a onesie.”

“Wait-” Hoseok started, only to see you jog away in the other direction, a sly smile on your face as you turned the corner. “... I don’t own one…” 

»»————-　♡　————-««

As Hoseok sat in the middle of his living room apartment, the only mess being the papers littered all over the wooden floors, he thought of items to purchase. It was obvious that his gift was going to be in your hands at the end of the day. Sure, he didn’t want to threaten some of your friends if he didn’t have to, but if they were making his life more difficult, then so be it. 

“Ahh-” Hoseok groaned, falling onto his side as his hair sprawled out in different directions. “I need to find the perfect gift…” He mumbled to himself, reaching for his open laptop and looking through Amazon. 

As Hoseok aimlessly scrolled, his mind was elsewhere, trying to remember if there was anything you might have wanted, anything you might have hinted at. It didn't matter what the price was. If your expression could light up because of him, if you never forgot what he did for you, that was good enough. 

Enough leeway to slowly make you feel indebted to him. 

Maybe stationary? He wasn't sure whether you too found stationary cute like all the other annoying females that chattered in his ear, trying to get his attention. It reminded him of all those pointless dates trying to forget about you, only to compare how everyone lacked in comparison. 

Their laughs were fake, their personalities morphed to a projection of what they thought he liked. They wanted something from him, which he gave them at the end of the day, bed sheets wrinkled underneath him.

-------

"This will have to do." Hoseok murmured, placing his delivered package next to him and standing up from his spot on the floor, stretching his arms over his head as he took slow steps over to his hallway closet. He rummaged through, pulling out his recent purchase of Christmas wrapping paper and carrying it to the living room. 

As he set it onto the floor, Hoseok waltzed into his kitchen, picking up his kitchen knife and setting it down next to the tape. He measured out the dimensions of his box, making a clean cut with the knife. 

Hoseok, with painstakingly long movements, neatly wrapped his present up, taping each side and tying a ribbon on top. He let out a sigh of satisfaction, staring at his work and placing it into a Christmas themed bag. 

The days until the secret santa event went by quickly and Hoseok found himself outside of your cheap apartment complex, ringing the doorbell as he patiently waited. You opened the door, pink bunny ears bouncing as you greeted him with a smile. Hoseok sheepishly smiled back, his body stiff and uncomfortable in the shark onesie he had purchased, a size too small. 

"Hi! Welcome in!" You exclaimed, opening the door wide as Hoseok stepped in. He could hear Jingle Bell Rock blast from the living room and several loud voices chattering about the home. 

Hoseok shyly joined the rest of your friend group who mostly talked amongst themselves, leaving him out, not that he really minded. He set his gift underneath the small Christmas tree with all the other presents, readjusting his onesie and taking a seat on the carpeted floor. 

"Okay everyone." You called, waddling into the living room. "Is everyone ready to pick a present? You'll all have to draw numbers to determine the order though." 

You shook a cup full of popsicle sticks, each labelled from one to twenty. Hoseok didn't care what number he got. He had several plans ready just in case on how the scenario played out. As he pulled out a number, he received number eight, drawn on with a thick sharpie. 

It was too risky to just randomly guess your present, even though he did want it. His eyes carefully locked onto his gift as each number passed by, one, five, seven. If he grabbed his own present and swapped it with you, there was a chance nobody would pick him. They all ignored him tonight and he prayed that they keep that same energy.

So when it was his turn, he grabbed his own gift, setting it onto his lap as he waited for everyone else to make their move.

One by one, people carefully opened their present, describing the things inside and so on and so forth. You told everyone that if there was a gift you wanted to swap with someone you could, but you couldn't swap again nor could anyone swap with you. Hoseok stayed frozen in his spot, hoping nobody would pick him.

"Hoseok? Don't you want to swap with anyone?" You called, as he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. 

"Ummm-" he started, his heartbeat growing pace. "I think I'll be alright…"

"Nobody will have hard feelings if you do, okay?"

"Then… I'll swap with you, I guess." Hoseok lifted his gift up and traded with you. He smiled, knowing that there was one last thing to do.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter, screams, and joyful memories, at least to everyone besides Hoseok. He was content with sitting off to the side and watching everyone fool around. 

"Y/n, where's the bathroom?" He asked as you pointed around the corner, then redirecting your attention back to your friends who fooled around. Hoseok disappeared into the dark hallway, walking past the bathroom door as he tested the doorknob which he guessed led to your room. It wasn't locked.

He slipped in, eyeing your desk and slowly rolling the drawers for anything he could take. Everything was filled with papers and as he shut it closed, he quickly made his way to your bed, inhaling the sweet scent of your blankets. 

Hoseok readjusted the things he touched to make sure nothing looked suspicious as he swiped a hair tie or two, shoving them into his pockets as he softly shut the door. 

As he reentered the rowdy living room, he gently tapped your shoulder. 

"I have to leave now to catch my bus." Hoseok pouted as you gave him a goodbye hug. He squeezed you tight as you followed him to the entrance of your home. 

"Did you have fun?" You asked. He nodded, picking up the present he had traded with you. 

"I did… I hope you like my present, y/n." 

"Oh! It's yours?" You smiled as you thanked him for his gift. 

"I'll enjoy my gifts too." He chuckled as you cocked you head to the side in confusion. 

Hoseok stepped outside as you watched him leave, your stomach dropping as you slowly realized Hoseok had chosen his own present from the start. 

[rhysismydaddy]

CPR Training (Nessian)

Nesta groaned at her phone as she reread the email from Velaris University Administration. “Before graduation, every student must complete CPR training in the auditorium. Sign up here.” 

Why admin felt the urge to wait until 26 days before graduation (not that she was counting or anything), Nesta had no idea. She clicked the link and was unsurprised when the only date available was this afternoon... for two hours? What the fuck were they going to teach her that would take two hours?

She had shit to do, finals to study for, and a comfy bed calling her name. All these reasons combined, and the fact that it was hot as hell outside, put Nesta firmly in a foul mood as she shoved open the auditorium doors three hours later. She flopped into a seat near the edge of the sea of chairs and propped her head in her hand, closing her eyes. No one was here; she was early enough she’d have to wait around for ten minutes for people to show up.

Or so she thought.

She frowned as she heard the door smack open, then frowned further as heavy, booted footsteps brought the intruder closer. Then entirely too close. The stranger had the audacity to thump into the seat next to Nesta.

Without opening her eyes, she hissed, “Out of all the fucking chairs in this place, you have to sit in the one next to me and intrude on my personal space?”

The stranger snorted but made no move to vacate her space. “I just figured you came early to ask your instructor some questions. No need to be grumpy.” His voice was deep and surprisingly young, especially for an instructor. 

This peaked her interest. She opened her eyes to see if the image she’d constructed of him in her mind was at all accurate. Nesta was surprised to be looking into deep golden eyes a second later. Even more surprised that they were mere inches from her own. 

Deep golden and lined with thick, dark eyelashes, they were hands-down the most beautiful eyes Nesta had ever seen. But she was too annoyed with life to let herself notice, let alone care. She knew he was waiting for her to back away and move, so she decided to not give him the satisfaction and got even closer. Not that you really want to move away. She ignored the thought and focused on what he’d said instead.

“You look too young to be teaching me anything.”

“Baby, I could teach you all kinds of things,” he whispered, invading her space further by pushing her hair behind her ear. 

Why, why, was Nesta so tempted to let him? He was completely gorgeous, with his muscled shoulders and tan skin, and that full, distracting lip that she wanted to pull between her tee- Get it together you stupid idiot! she screamed at herself.

She shoved him away and muttered, “You’re repulsive.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. But to answer your question that wasn’t really a question, yes I am teaching the course today.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. 

“I graduated two years ago and started working as a EMT for the fire department, so I’m certified to train people in CPR,” he leaned back in his chair and threw his boots on the chair in front of him.

“You’re a fire fighter?” Why did that make him so much sexier??

“Mmhm,” he murmured, as if he knew what she was thinking. 

Oh, fuck this.

“Wow,” she breathed, dropping her voice to a seductive tone and putting a hand on his toned forearm. “So you, like, save people for a living? Isn’t that dangerous?”

He grinned, flashing annoyingly white teeth at her, and threw an arm around the back of her chair. “Danger is my middle name.” Nesta repressed an eye roll. “Speaking of names, what’s yours?” 

Oh, what a line. “Seriously?” she laughed, going back to her normal, non-slutty, voice. “You really believed that? Let me tell you something, Mr. Fire Fighter, your profession is really not that impressive. There are far more profitable ways of getting paid to slide down a pole all day.”

With that, she grabbed her bag and shoved past him into the hall. She’d spend the rest of the time before the class in the bathroom, far away from him.

When she came back, right before the class started, she was not surprised to see Ianthe, Velaris’s class bimbo, sitting next to the beautiful stranger, laughing loudly at something he’d said. 

She slunk into a seat on the other side of the auditorium. She could feel his gaze on her, despite Ianthe desperately trying to get his attention, but ignored him and stared at her blank phone screen. More people were filing in, so the man politely excused himself and went up to the stage. Two more men were standing up there, looking at Ianthe with looks of disgust on their beautiful faces.

When the man she’d been talking to joined them, Nesta was struck by how similar they all looked. They were all tall with dark hair, exotic faces, and extremely tones bodies. They could be cousins, maybe even brothers. 

When the campus clock started to chime noon, they got started.

“Hey guys, today we’ll be teaching you three different things: what to do if someone starts choking, adult CPR, and infant CPR. I’m Rhysand, this is Azriel,” he pointed to a classically beautiful man on his left, “and this is Cassian.”

Cassian.

The name rang through her. He locked eyes with her and winked not-so-subtly, making her blush slightly. 

She could feel Ianthe shooting daggers her way, but she could care less about that piece of trash. 

Rhysand split the auditorium up by section and instructed them where to go. Of course, of course, she was starting with choking. With Cassian. 

She walked up to his corner of the room, already scowling. She didn’t want to be here in the first place, let alone deal with a stupid, arrogant man the entire time. 

“So, like Rhys said, I’m Cassian, and I’ll be talking about what to do if someone around you starts choking. Has anyone ever experienced choking?” he asked, looking at her with a smirk.

Oh, for the love of the gods. Did he have to make everything sexual?

A few people raised their hands. Cassian started to go over the basics about how to know if someone is choking, to call 911 immediately, and Nesta found herself staring at him and zoning out completely. He had to be at least 6′3″, maybe taller-

“Don’t stick your fingers in their mouth,” he looked at her, “no matter how bad you want to.”

She rolled her eyes and he smiled. 

“You might push whatever they’re choking on further down their throat. Now, for how to actually help save someone. Can I get a volunteer to help me out?”

“Fuck no,” Nesta muttered, trying to push her way toward the back of the group.

No one stepped forward, and Nesta was halfway successful in her plan to hide behind one of her classmates when Cassian exclaimed, “You want to volunteer? Great!”

He was pointing straight at her, that stupid smile lighting up his face.

“I didn’t volunteer,” she said hatefully, ignoring his outreached hand.

He grabbed her hand anyway and hauled her in front of everyone. “Funny, I heard you say something. Introduce yourself to the group, dear.”

Prick. Such a prick.

“My name is Nesta.”

Cassian gave her a “I won, you lost” smile before addressing the group. 

“So, say I’m on a date my beautiful girlfriend, Nesta,” he raised her hand, “and she starts to choke, although I seriously doubt that would ever be the case.” I’m going to kill him.  “The first thing I’m going to need to do is move behind her.”

She felt him stand behind her, much closer than he needed to. Then I’m going to place my hands here-” he tried to reach around her and she planted a firm elbow in his rib cage. 

Cassian just laughed softly and slipped his arms around her, both hands resting on her stomach. 

“-and make a fist at the top of her stomach. Then I’d want to pull in and up.”

He pulled her tight against him, and Nesta hated herself for slightly losing her breath as all of him pressed into her. 

His fist pressed into her stomach and he damn near lifted her off the ground as he demonstrated the maneuver. “I’d do this about five times-” he pulled her into him again and again, “-and hopefully she’ll stop choking.”

Despite him trying to save her from “choking,” Nesta found herself completely out of breath when he stopped. 

Cassian moved around her to her side and threw his thick arm around her shoulders. “Now, everyone grab a partner and try it. Don’t be shy,” he called out, “you could meet the love of your life today.” He squeezed her shoulder and wagged his eyebrows suggestively. 

Nesta threw his arm away from her and gave him a vulgar gesture before heading toward the bathroom, her new found safe haven.

He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could leave, though. “Where do you think you’re going, Nesta?” 

“Bathroom.”

“Nesta, dear, do you have some condition I need to be made aware of? You were in there for fifteen minutes not too long ago.” She wanted to punch that smug look off of his face. “Besides, I won’t be able to graduate you from this course if you don’t demonstrate that you can save someone from choking.”

She sighed through her nose and tried not to slap him. “You’re such a prick.”

“Oh, don’t be so negative. Since everyone already has a partner, you get to be with me,” he was practically glowing with joy.

Nesta walked behind him, figuring she’d squeeze the living shit out of him and get this over with. “Cassian, how am I supposed to Heimlich you? You’re massive.”

Before she could even regret what she’d said, he turned around and slipped his arms around her shoulders with a cool grin. “You have no idea, Nesta.”

“Stop saying my name like that,” she muttered, trying to ignore the pleasant feeling of his heavy arms around her.

“Like what?” he whispered in her ear, leaning down to her level.

She was about to respond when a new sensation shot through her body and made her lose her train of thought. Cassian had taken her ear lobe between his teeth and she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, around the nasty thoughts of where else she wanted him to bite.

Nesta shoved him back, panting for entirely no reason. He read the look in her eyes and for the first time all day, he wasn’t giving her that insufferable, cocky grin. 

He cleared his throat and didn’t say anything at all as he extended his hand.

Nesta! What are you doing?? The logical part of her brain was going crazy as the stupid part allowed her to slip her hand into his and nod at his unspoken offer. No one had ever affected her so much, let alone someone she’d known for an hour. 

He pulled her down the hallway and into a dark classroom, not even hesitating before crashing into her. His lips pressed into hers and he kicked the door closed as he pressed her up against the wall. 

His body was tight against hers as her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair and pulling. She wanted him to be closer, so much closer.

Apparently, Cassian was having similar thoughts. His hands found her hips and he hoisted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. 

He slipped his tongue into her mouth at the same time he pressed his hips into hers, and Nesta groaned into his mouth. She ran her hands over his back, setting around his neck and shoulders. His were under her ass, supporting her, and he squeezed slightly as he moved his lips down to her neck.

His teeth scrapped across her collarbone and she released a slight whimper. Am I really going to fuck some stranger in a classroom? she thought to herself. Cassian chose that moment to pull her earlobe between his teeth again; Nesta saw stars as she thought Yes, yes I am.

Her fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt and she’d just started to life it over his head when someone outside the door banged a fist against the wood.

Nesta yelped in surprise and Cassian jumped so fast he almost dropped her. 

“Cassian, you dumb fuck. Get your ass out here.” Azriel’s voice sounded through the door.

He made no move to put her down.

“Go out with me,” he whispered, using a hand to push her hair behind her ear.

For the first time in her adult life, Nesta didn’t even object. They had a connection, and she wouldn’t be stupid enough to lie to herself about it. 

“Okay,” she whispered back, kissing him softly. “But only if you let me leave this stupid class early.”

He laughed soundly, letting her slide down his body to the floor. She moved toward the door and gasped as Cassian smacked her ass and said, “We’ll finish this later, baby. After dinner.”

“Prick,” she replied, hiding her smile and closing the door in his face.

She couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day, stupidly waiting for the next time she got to see her sexy firefighter.

[mxc-vstheworld]

Do your students ever not get along with each other? Do the students in the same classes have the same assignments even if they are different grades? Is it like looping? How do their elective and online classes work? Do you like your coworkers? How many are there?

Ok, I’m going to do my best to ask all of these. Feel free to ask again if it’s not to satisfaction. 

Do my students ever not get along? You mean every day, because it happens every day. These kids have known each other, for the most part, since they were small. They know each others business and secrets and rumors. They spend all day together. Little tiffs happen at least once a day.

Do the students in the same classes have the same assignments even if they are different grades? I teach the classes in an every other year cycle. Last year I did my freshman and 7th grade curriculums and this year I’ll do my sophomore and 8th grade ones. So yes they all do the same thing, unless they have IEP’s or other paperwork saying otherwise or I feel they will benefit from something else. This allows me more students to work with if I want to do group work and CCSS allows for a lot of overlap (9-10 are literally the same standards) so it’s not hard to gear it toward my students. If I taught math, I would not do this. I’ve never done looping, so I can’t say.

How do their elective and online classes work? We only offer so many electives in the building. I teach yearbook, a writing workshop, and I’ve taught film studies, creative writing, art. Other options are PE, home economics, Spanish, wood shop, and extra math or science classes. For their online classes we use a platform called Plato or edmentum (I can’t remember which) and there is a lot more options. The format is ok and relies on the students’ to be motivated to learn all they want. Classes I remember kids taking are an intro to vet science, early childhood, intro to archaeology, and creative writing. The class would take place during an open period.

Do you like your coworkers? How many are there? The whole district staff can fit in my classroom. Granted, my classroom is one of the bigger ones but we don’t have a large staff. I think we have about 20 or so teachers and other staff between both schools. I like some of them?? I hate my admin but I feel I can work around his incompetencies and get things done for my students. Our hs secretary and librarian are some of my closest friends, also 1/2nd and our test coordinator as well. My favorite staff member is my next door neighbor classroom, he is the science teacher and we are probably exact opposites. He came to my interview in a cowboy hat and spurs. He gave me an old cow dog of his because she wasn’t working anymore and he would shoot her if I didn’t take her. We compete for who will win our yearly turkey trot and when I run down by his ranch he likes to joke about why I’m training so early; he carbo loads the rest of the year. Also he wears a turkey costume when he runs. I’m not sure I would call him a friend (I wouldn’t) but he is entertaining and keeps my spirits up during the school year.

[i-love-regenerations]

Sign Me Up For That

There are far worse things than failure...

(Something else I wrote a while ago - dark humour warning)

“I’ve got something you’ll really like,” said Claire’s friend Judie when they were talking on the phone one evening.

“Another knock-off kitchen gadget?” Judie often got stuff from sales or offers in magazines.

“Nope, a way you can go and cuddle babies at the hospital,”

“I can’t do that,” said Claire “I’m not good at that sort of thing!”

“You could be. They’re really short of volunteers,”

“If they’re that desperate for staff, they’d best call Ingeus - another place I have no intention of going to anytime soon!”

Claire had applied for a lot of similar work – both voluntary and paid – a while ago. If she was any good, she would be doing it already. And that had been when she was unemployed and available all the time. She’d now found a fairly reasonable job at an estate agents and this position could well be weekday afternoons anyway.

“Seriously, can you at least Google it? Are you still there?” asked Judie.

“Yes. I’ll Google it later, with the malware scanner on!”

“That’s a great start! Come on, it’ll give you loads of self-esteem!”

“Loads of spam, more likely!” said Claire.

“You aren’t worried about spam when you’re downloading dodgy movies!”

“I know, but I get some satisfaction from watching movies!”

“You don’t get any from holding babies then? Okay…”

“No, I don’t!” Claire was getting annoyed. “I don’t do it because I would never get past the interview! How do you know so much about it anyway? Did you see it on an American documentary?”

“Possibly!”

“Yes then! Can’t I just come round to yours and play with the kittens?” asked Claire. Her priorities certainly weren’t the same as a couple of years ago. “It would save me a lot of hassle and I could watch a movie at the same time!”

“Not right now, I’m watching Bear Grylls,” said Judie.

“Oh gawd,”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“One, the man is a plonker. Two, I’m not eating anything you’ve cooked now, I have no idea what might be in it!”

Claire decided it was probably a good idea to rustle up an application before Judie suggested any other documentary-inspired ways to spend the evening, such as digging around in the local park for something to eat!

“I’ve got an interview tonight,” Claire said when she went to see Judie after work the next day.

“It’s at ten o’clock at night though. That doesn’t sound remotely dodgy, does it?”

“Sick babies don’t all do office hours,” said Judie. She kind of had a point but you’d think the recruitment office would still be nine to five.

Perhaps they were in there typing rejection letters, Claire thought sarcastically. She’d done some Google searching last night and noticed that some of the baby holding programmes in America had very long waiting lists. If the same applied here, that could be a lot of letters!

“Well, I’m going to get a big fat no anyway,” said Claire.

“How do you know?” asked Judie.

“None of the places I applied to wanted me three years ago, why should they now?”

“I dunno, more experience?”

“From an estate agents!? If they were sitting around cuddling babies all day in the one you went to, how on Earth did you get a flat?” Claire asked jokingly.

“Listen,” said Judie, with her serious face on, “It’s really good for babies and I know you would love it too. Can't you use your imagination? I read about babies who’ve been born on drugs, they need holding all the time so they can recover,”

“I can imagine, I was watching videos of it online last night, while you were watching Bear Grylls making a condom out of stinging nettles or something! That doesn’t change the fact I’ll be getting a big fat no, does it?” argued Claire.

“You might not. My friend’s brother had an interview at night, it was so they could give him a work trial straight away and he got the job!” said Judie. 

“What kind of job?”

“Oh, just supermarket night work,”

“Which doesn’t need a background check or anything,” said Claire “I’ll do my best, but if it’s a Big Fat No you’re paying for us to go somewhere that’ll actually give me some satisfaction. Like a gig! Deal?”

“Deal. Want to watch a film?”

“Not if it’s one of your choices! If the interviewer asks what I’ve done this evening, I can’t tell them I watched the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or the Centipede or whatever else!” said Claire.

“That could work, they’d certainly know you’re not squeamish!” said Judie, laughing.

“I’m not telling anyone I watched those!! Can I print my CV?”

“Okay, but I’ve only got pink paper left. It’ll be er, baby friendly!”

“You mean it’ll be naff! The babies are not doing the interview, the recruitment people are!”

Judie hadn’t mentioned that she’d run out of black printer ink too. Claire’s CV came out bright pink with purple text. It was starting to look very much like she might be getting this gig!

Claire had a problem with her interview straight away - she couldn’t find the place! Surely a hospital had to be pretty big and clearly signposted? Yet she’d somehow found herself outside a closed-looking office block in the backside of nowhere!

It was 21.49. She knocked on the office block door to ask for directions, hoping like crazy that she wasn’t more than ten minutes’ walk away from the hospital or Judie would have a right laugh hearing that she’d never even found it, in order to get The No.

A man answered the door. Claire heard bleeping and saw someone go past behind him. They were walking around with a drip stand, so this presumably was the right place! It just looked a bit rough on the outside, likely because of Conservative party budget cuts and it being late at night.

“I’m here for the volunteering interview,” said Claire.

The man checked his watch. “Ah. Wait upstairs,”

“Thank you. Which floor…”

He went back inside and and Claire had to kind of run after him into the lift. His voice had sounded all wrong – should he be around sick people with a sore throat like that? Not to mention his attitude!

On an upstairs floor, a woman came in and asked for Claire’s CV then walked off, leaving her in a waiting room with several inside windows. Some of the rooms were definitely staff offices. Others had the shutters down so behind there could have been anything, although the bleeping seemed to be coming from that direction so she assumed it was a hospital ward.

On and off, Claire could hear drilling and what generally sounded like building renovations. Damn, no wonder they couldn’t get the babies to sleep with that racket! She smelled burning plastic and had a terrifying mental image of the block catching fire. Sensibly, she knew it was probably just the paper laminator or whatever the builders were doing.

Where was the interviewer or anyone else? She doubted they were planning to trial people straight away because if nothing else, the background checks would have taken ages. It was Friday night, even something ridiculously fast-tracked would surely have to be done at nine o' clock on Monday morning?

Maybe they’d done it early this morning, after she applied last night? Maybe they could trial her with supervision? Maybe they were just going to give her The No straight away? Although someone actually getting around to interviewing her would be a good start for any of those.

On the upside, she had at least one requirement sorted thanks to their brilliant scheduling – the ability to sit still for a very long time!

Claire remembered one of the videos she’d seen online of a woman snuggling a baby who woke up and looked around at her. He had really big lovely eyes and it had made Claire feel funny inside. Although that was probably just because she had the sense of a Big Fat No heading in her direction.

She was just going to think about that sort of thing, unlikely though it was for her, and not some of the other things she’d read about online recently – about perverts and financial scammers and high-rise fires. That hot plastic smell was making her feel funny inside and not in a good way, maybe she should go and tell someone?

“Yeah, and that’ll make me look brilliant,” Claire thought sarcastically. It would almost certainly be the office document laminator she was freaking out over. Then when this volunteer position inevitably turned out to be admin, she still wouldn’t be getting it!

Claire wasn’t exactly sure how long she’d been waiting. Fifteen minutes or so? One of her interviews was pretty late before, wasn’t it? Although that one was in the morning at a cash & carry, which was just a bit different from this.

She started walking around the place looking for someone to ask. She’d been waiting longer than fifteen minutes - the clock in the staff office said 22.30. Did the interviewer forget about her? If the hospital was that busy, how come she’d barely seen anyone? She found a pile of documents next to the shredder with something pink in it that looked rather like her CV. This was a big fat no alright!

She picked up the pile to check whether the pink thing was actually her CV. It was, and there was something worse underneath – exam certificates! Why would anyone be shredding those? She had suspected from the beginning that there was an admin assistant here who needed replacing but that was ridiculous.

She was going to find someone to moan to, and to hell with The No. She probably would have gotten it anyway and she was now kind of looking forward to getting out of here. She was just glad she didn’t bring her exam certificates! She spotted something else that made her feel funny inside, and certainly not in a good way.

The clock wasn’t on 22.37, it was 02.37! Where the hell had she been for over four hours? Asleep? She must have been totally forgotten about.

There was a corridor at the back with more small offices, but there was nothing in them. She got the feeling that the place wasn’t even finished. What if the entire thing turned out to be some kind of horrible joke? Judie had seemed very encouraging, hadn’t she? Not to mention the weird suggestions of getting useful experience from an office job and the dodgy CV.

Judie certainly wouldn’t have had a problem with frightening her – lover of disgusting horror movies that she was. But she surely wouldn’t be mean enough to disappoint someone with a fake job interview? And how did she rustle up the keys to an empty block? Claire wouldn’t have easily been able to arrange that late at night just for a joke, and she worked for an estate agents! Judie worked in a shop.

Claire remembered something else about the interview at the cash & carry – their offices had been on intermediate floors at the sides and she could see down into the main warehouse from there. Maybe the same thing could work here? It surely wouldn’t hurt to look, if only to find out where everyone had gone and make sure the place wasn’t on fire. She found the controls to the window shutters, opened them so that she could see down onto the next floor and screamed.

There were people in there with their entire bodies covered in bandages, as if they’d been burned in some sort of terrible accident. Far worse than that, one was laying on an operating table and a worker was covering parts of his body with something that looked horribly like plastic laminator sheets. That must have been what she could smell earlier!

The sound that she’d assumed to be building renovations started up again - they were screw-drilling things into his chest. He twisted around - he was awake for this - and she saw metal bars screwed into his head and just kind of…holes for the eyes and mouth. 

She turned round and started running, only to find all of the waiting room doors firmly locked. Even if she could have forced them, she could see that someone who must have impossible strength had moved several heavy filing cabinets in front of the hallway exit doors. She couldn’t get to any outside windows either, so screaming for help or even jumping off the block weren’t going to be an option. The staff had only told people that this floor was the baby nursery because it was a lot easier to make people turn up than if they told them it was the cyber-conversion theatres. Claire realised she was about to lose a hell of a lot more than her self-esteem...

[mariandacalos]

Quarantine Diary: An update you did not ask for

Living through a pandemic is a big challenge that we have to face. Especially for people who are not fortunate enough to deal with this whole thing. I, myself, too is struggling. I struggle a lot in my academics, physical, and mental health. It is not easy and it will never be easy.

It's been a while since the last time I posted something. I've been losing my desire in writing, to be honest. It's sad but I am trying myself to get back to it. I know not everyone will read this so I want this post to be personal and for the record, this will be the first personal post that you will be reading here on my blog. I will talk about the things that happened in me since the quarantine started and how it affected me and the things around me.

I did a lot of writings during this quarantine but I kept them in the drafts or on my finder folders. All of it did not even get close to 'finish' which I find frustrating because when I was still in elementary and high school, I always write... about everything. Just give me a word and I will write my thoughts about it. All habits die hard, true, but that doesn't change the fact that eventually, it will die and turn into obscurity.

The first thing that I am struggling with right now is my academics. The university I enrolled in is not considering the mental health–the health in general of their students. Online classes were pushed through and it is not working because not everyone is privileged. Not everyone can afford a laptop, a computer, and an internet connection. Plus, this is the Philippines where internet connection is shitty. I am sometimes late in submissions because of the connection, good thing some professors are considerate but some are just... entitled. I am taking up fine arts and this course requires a lot of plates since it is both lecture and skill-based. I hate the fact that some professors are still pushing the idea of doing plates at home. Most of the students in our class including me don't have any materials because we left it on our dorms and we are now in our respective home towns.

Tang ina, ang hirap. Ang hirap basta walang pake ang Gobyerno at ang Presidente. Tang ina. Ang hirap, ang hirap maging mahirap.

I am also struggling with my mental health. These days, the voices inside my head were so loud, and they are even louder at night. I've been sleeping late, 3 AM or worse 6 AM. I can't sleep because obviously, sleep requires peace and I am not close to getting that. It is affecting my health because I wake up late. 2 PM is the new morning and dinner is the new lunch for me. I never wanted any of this but we are living though a pandemic and my mind kept on thinking about every single thing. From how shitty our Government in dealing with this pandemic down to how shitty our school is because they value more the scientia over virtus and devotio.

I by the way joined mass organization this month. I'm one of the creatives of STAND where we fight not just for the students' rights but the rights for everyone. We are currently in a battle with our school admin. We keep on writing letter and making pubmats to them. I am assigned into making pubmats and It feels good. You know, doing something that I am good at to fight for the betterment of everyone. Using my talent for a good cause. I am also the newly elected International Director of Rotaract USC Cebu, and we are having our regular meetings, it's been hard since we cannot go out (most of our programs needs social interaction btw) and we have to work of something that we have at home hence, the online meeting, online postings, etc. It's good to know that I am not completely useless, that I have a contribution, at least in my little ways.

Too much negativity eh? Let's talk about how I am coping up despite all of this unwanted things that is happening. I will not lie, I've been living a very unhealthy lifestyle since the quarantine started. I sleep late, I wake up late, I eat unhealthy foods, and I eat late. Although it is working for me and my body is not yet suffering the consequences of my unhealthy lifestyle, I want to break it and slowly by slowly redirect my path to the right one. And if you, the one who is reading is also experiencing the same thing, you're with me! I'm with you! we gonna be better soon.

I always try to not stay in my room during the day because when I do, I just sleep or binge watch series which is bad because I sometimes forget to eat. I'm the type of person whose bothered when there is nothing to do. It just gives me time to contemplate unnecessary thoughts and fight those loud voices in my head to one of the coping mechanism that works for me is organizing and cleaning out things. I love organizing stuff! from folding clothes, to washing the dishes with a new dishwashing foam and bubbly dishwashing liquid, arranging my books, basically anything about organizing. It just gives me this certain satisfaction that I do not get from doing other things. Well, it sometimes can be my downside because I tend to over work myself.. geez. I love working okay.

I am also trying out different kind of recipes (snacks and beverages). I had a lot of fun and my tummy is also happy, so are the tummy of the people surrounding me.

I'm doing a lot of digital arts lately, it's a good thing because I get to hone my skills in illutrating stuff digitally. The routine is to finish a good series (because I do consider the color grading of the film, the casting, production, the ost, typeface used, basically everything) then make a fan art out of it. Sometimes, I sketch on paper, scan it then render it digitally which is fun and liberating because I do not have to follow a guide sheet like our classes lol.

Looking back, I don't think it's entirely unproductive. It's unhealthy sure, but I think I did things that falls into the 'productive' list.

Please do not be pressured if people around you and what you see in social media is all doing productive things, or doing workouts/exercise. Remember that we are living through a pandemic and this is not some sort of vacation or summer break. This is a quarantine thing and you should look after yourself. You should do things that can help you get through and calm. Be easy on yourself and take all of the time you have to be stable. Find the coping mechanism that works for you.

Remember that everything in this world is temporary, even change. This season in our life will pass and I hope that It will serve as a lesson for us to do better next time. To be more responsible citizen. To wisely choose a government, to enroll into an institution that cares for us, to support a brand that cares and give back, to give appreciation to both front and back liners. To be a good citizen.

Wow that was a long rant-slash-thoughts, if you get 'til here, thank you for listening. I do not have anyone to talk to about my sentiments so I thought of posting it here. If it not too much to ask for, message me on my ask box if you've read all of this and let's talk (you can go anonymous). :)

Marian