#but none of them play into the fact that centipedes have two heads

[peculiurperennial]

A couple more slugcat hybrids that I cooked up and finally decided to upload!

[wlwhovian]

Lost

Thirteenth Doctor/Reader

Word count: 2119 Genre: Whump & hurt/comfort Summary: You’d hoped she’d be here by now. No Doctor and no TARDIS, you find yourself lost in the middle of nowhere with nothing and no one to turn to. Usually it would be fine, only the forest has things hiding in it that you would rather not meet face-to-face. You just hope the Doctor finds you in time. Warnings: Big bugs

It’s getting dark.

You shiver as the cold settles in futher, a chill running down your spine, and try to keep your teeth from chattering as you huddle up, trying to reserve what body heat you still have left.

You’ve managed to find an alcove in one of the trees that succesfully blocks most of the wind, but every now and then when the breeze picks up, it seems to puncture your meager shelter like paper. The forest is silent, save for stray critters skittering around, looking for food, and your own heavy breathing. You blow air into your freezing palms and rub them together. Fuck, it’s cold.

It’s been hours now. There’s no sign of the Doctor, or the TARDIS, and their striking absence is slowly forcing you to consider the chance that maybe she’s not coming, and if that really is the case, then you can’t afford to stay here and wait, slowly freezing to death. No, you have to do something. Right now. What that is, though, you aren’t so sure. Shelter is pretty high on the list of priorities, and you kick yourself for not thinking about any of this earlier, because now the sun is well past setting and finding anything useful will be, if not impossible, very, very difficult. Not to mention that you’d have to leave your meager cover and exchange it’s relative safety for a temperature that’s dropping lower by the second.

You think, once again, how the Doctor told you to stay close, to not get separated, to stay with the bloody group, but here you are all on your lonesome, lost in the middle of the woods. You just can’t listen, can you? You never can. And this time, it just might be the slow, unforgiving death of you.

You jump when something cracks in the distance. You quiet your breathing and try to remain as still as humanly possible, but you can’t keep your hands from trembling, and proceed to stuff them under your arms with a curse under your breath. You’re not sure if it’s the sudden surge of adrenaline or if it’s just the fucking cold.

You can see movement beyond a fallen tree, about ten feet away from where you’re hiding, and your stomach lurches when you get a better look at the source of the noise. It’s not the Doctor. It’s not even humanoid.

Halfway hidden by the treeline you can see a lengthy arching back, covered in some kind of plating, and what looks like dozens of little wiggling legs. Well, little might be an understatement. Try something more like the size of your forearm. They all move in unison with a thick, wet, squelching sound that makes your stomach turn. It slithers over the fallen tree, landing with a soft thump against the ground, and in the encroaching darkness you can see a pair of antennae wiggling in the air as it takes in it’s surroundings. When it gets closer you manage to get a better look and you can tell the creature is, in fact, a massive centipede, and it is headed right towards you with an uncanny determination that makes you wonder if it already knows you’re there. You need to run. Or hide. Anything. You can’t just sit here, for fuck’s sake! You shift your position against the tree, preparing to crawl through the foliage, or run for your life if you have to.

Your heart skips a beat when the ground crumbles under your foot and a whole patch of earth comes loose, sending gravel flying down the hill, cascading over the centipede in rock-hard rain. It turns it’s head on the spot and lets out a deafening screech that forces you to clamp your hands over your ears. The creature shoots towards you at an absurd speed, tiny legs shifting and scuttling and you back away as far as you can, but as your back hits solid stone, you have no choice but to admit that you’re trapped. You cover your face as the centipede rears up, throwing half it’s body in the air, and roars, slathering you in thick, gooey spit that smells like gasoline and spoiled food. You try to breathe in, but the air is heavy with the odour and your chest keeps tightening, like your lungs are being held hostage by your own ribs. You let out one final cry, a little high pitched hiccup, before the creature descends upon you, ready to rip you into shreds.

A flash of light. An electronic whirring. Very potent cursing spiced with a strong Yorkshire accent, followed by another screech from the insect before it crawls away into the distance. Hurried footsteps.

Something heavy and soft is dropped on your shoulders, and you dig deep into the warmth like your life depends on it. A hand lands on your shoulder, but you can’t bear to look up. Your neck is frozen in place, and you sit there, violently shivering, your entire body shaking with uncontrollable tremors. You hear rustling, before your head is gently guided towards someone’s chest, where it is held by a soft, warm hand. You try to breathe in, and listen to their heartbeat. Heartbeats. Plural.

”Doctor?” you manage to mumble, words coming out in a thick slur.

”Shh,” she says, and runs a hand through your sweat-soaked hair. ”It’s alright.” She bends down until her face is in right in front of yours, offering you a sympathetic smile. ”I’ve got you.”

A choked sob escapes from your lips, but it turns into a frenzied gasp that leaves you dry-heaving, and as you weakly nod in confirmation, your head lurches forwards. The Doctor grabs your shoulders and lets you rest in the crook of her neck, where you allow yourself to close your eyes for a moment. It doesn’t help though, because no matter how much you try to make yourself calm down, how many times you try to get yourself to just breathe, air refuses to enter your lungs and you’re left to claw at your throat with feeble, trembling hands.

The Doctor takes your hand in hers and gives it a squeeze, before she presses it against her lips. The simplicity of the intimacy in the gesture makes you press yourself tighter against her, as if you could burrow into her, somewhere she could always keep you safe.

”It’ll be okay. Promise,” she says. Her voice is strained and her brow is furrowed, and she looks so awfully sad that you want to kick yourself for not being able to do anything about it. ”You’re in shock. We need to get you somewhere warm and safe, ok? The TARDIS is just around the corner, we’ll be there in no time.” She pauses. ”Are you hurt?”

You shake your head what meager amount you can.

”Right. That’s good. Proper good.”

You wait for a moment, trying to get the words straight in your head before you try and actually speak them aloud. The Doctor’s chest rises and falls, and you try to focus on the motion instead of the swimming in your head. Eventually, you finally manage to open your mouth despite your tongue feeling dry as sand. ”I’m sorry.”

It’s such a small sentence, only two words, and yet, saying it feels like climbing a whole slew of mountains.

The Doctor shimmies you around until she has you in what she deems an acceptable grip, before rising to her feet, with you carefully secured against her. She takes a few tentative steps before settling into a steady walking pace. Once she’s sure that she’s not going to drop you, she looks down and makes sure she catches your eye. ”None of that now, love. There’s nothin’ to be sorry for.”

Her voice is so gentle, steady like a rock in the middle of a raging sea, that it makes you want to cry. You try to make yourself as small as possible, but all your extremities are numb and you’re not sure if moving would only make it harder for the Doctor to carry you. There’s a weight in your eyelids that’s getting harder and harder to resist, and you have to fight a losing battle to keep them from shutting.

The Doctor takes notice, and offers you an encouraging smile. ”Don’t you go fallin’ asleep on me just yet.” She speeds up to a jog, and you do your best to hold on to her shoulders, but your fingers keep slipping and your hands shake so bad that you can barely get them moving. ”We’re almost there.” She glances a the forest in front of you, before muttering under her breath: ”Really should’ve parked closer.”

You swear you had only closed your eyes for a second, but suddenly you’re being engulfed by the light flowing from the TARDIS, and Graham is ushering the two of you inside. The doors shut with a slam, and when your whole body is drowning in warmth and silken light, you find the world slipping away as deep, comforting darkness takes over.

You awaken to a great, throbbing headache and the scent of raspberries. It smells like safety, like home and saturday mornings spent with a cup of tea, and you let yourself bask in the quiet for a moment. Opening your eyes, you can immediately tell that you’re in your own bedroom, with the lights dimmed and softly playing music easing you back into the waking world. You’ve been stuffed under several thick blankets, but there’s still a persistent chill somewhere deep under your skin. You try taking a deep breath, and this time your chest rises and falls just as it should. The scent of raspberries only gets stronger with each draw of air.

”Gave us quite the scare, you did.”

You jump, but under the heavy weight, nobody but you can probably tell. You turn your head, wincing as pain shoots down your neck, and end up face to face with the Doctor. She’s sitting cross legged in a chair drawn up next to your bed from it’s usual place, holding what looks to be a cheap erotic romance novel, and a cup of tea in her hand. That explains the smell, at the very least.

You sigh. ”I’m sorry,” you say, eyes strictly trained on the frayed edge of the blanket. The Doctor places the book down on the armrest, before turning to fully face you.

”There you go again,” she says with a lop-sided smile. ”With the sorries and the apologies. I told you,” she pauses as she shifts to hold her cup more securely, ”You’ve nothin’ to be sorry for. Pinkie swear.” She holds out her little finger and you take it with yours. ”Unless you try to get up before you’re ready, in which case I’ll have no choice but to detain you.”

”Detain me?” you ask with a snort.

”Made you laugh,” the Doctor says, smiling mischieviously. You throw one of your pillows at her.

”Oh, shut up.”

”I’m serious!” she says. ”Bedrest is nothin’ to be laughed at, you know. Plenty of things get much better by having a lie down.”

”You’re one to talk. The last time I saw you in bed was probably two weeks ago.”

”But I’m not human, am I?”

You look away, sheepish. ”No.”

”And humans need their rest. Lots of it.”

”Fine,” you say, rolling your eyes. ”Have it your way.”

The Doctor grins at you. ”That’s more like it.” She drains her cup and stands up, giving her back a hefty stretch. ”You just try and sleep, alright? Doctor’s orders.” She turns to leave, and you find your hand shooting out from beneath the blankets to hold hers. The Doctor turns, surprised and a little confused. You can’t make yourself look her in the eye.

”Could you stay with me?” you ask, and you can already feel heat creeping up your neck, covering your cheeks in a flush. A second passes by. To you, it’s one too many, and you draw your hand back to where it was, an apology already on your lips, before the Doctor interrupts you.

”Of course.”

You’re not really sure what you expected, but upon being granted your request, you’re not sure what to do. The Doctor grins. ”Do you want me to hop on the bed too, or should I stay in me chair? I could read you this literary masterpiece,” she says, gesturing at the book that’s still open on the armrest.

”Come here?” you ask, your voice quiet and shy. The Doctor beams. She picks up the book and crawls over you, so that she’s leaning against the wall, her legs crossed on top of you.

”Right! Alright, so, in the previous chapter..”

You try to listen. You really, really do, but the comforting narration of the Doctor combined with the abysmal plot of the book has you falling back asleep in minutes. The last thing you remember before nodding off is her taking your hand in hers, holding it carefully as she lightly draws circles on your skin with her thumb. You only wonder how you ever got this lucky.

[aellynera]

Calavera (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

(ok, so, it’s been a while since i posted my writing. it’s not that i haven’t been writing, but i’ve started like eight things and nothing felt completely right. so, yeah. then tonight, boom.)

CALAVERA (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

Word Count: 2120(ish)

Summary: It’s a day of celebration, in more ways than one.

Warnings: A naughty innuendo but nothing else, not even a language warning, I’m not sure what got into me. It’s all fluffy.

“Baby, hold still,” Santiago commanded, his hand lightly slapping your knee to emphasize his point.

“Sorry,” you muttered. You straightened your back, let out a deep breath, and tried to comply.

Your eyes were closed so all you saw was dancing blackness. The wet, pasty feeling on your face almost made you jump but you held your reaction down as best you could and hoped Santiago didn’t notice.

He had asked to paint you. Your first response, with a laugh, had been, “Like one of your French girls?” and Santiago swore if you ever made a joke like that again, he wouldn’t be painting you with paint. Then you had asked, completely (not) innocently, what the problem with that was and how exactly was that even a threat, which led to a half-hour delay in the original mission and another half-hour of showering and grabbing some clean clothes.

None of which you were sorry for, by the way. Not at all.

So, then Santiago asked if he could paint you for real. Your face, specifically, as a calavera. A sugar skull. Today was November 1, and for him it held special significance. It was Day of the Dead, Día de Muertos. And although Santiago was neither Mexican nor particularly Catholic, at least not in a practicing sense any more, he could hardly deny the day was especially significant for him, both in his past and, possibly, more meaningful now in his adulthood.

In his past, because of the memories associated with his parents’ celebrating every year. The altars and the food and all the magical colors that flowed through the air. And the skeletons. As a kid, those were always cool.

In his present, to remember all the family and friends and comrades he had lost. Those he had loved and cherished and would never be forgotten.

You were also neither Mexican nor particularly religious, especially not Catholic, but you could appreciate the meaning behind the holiday and were happy to celebrate with him.

So when Santiago asked, a second time, if he could paint your face, you immediately said yes.

Which is now how you found yourself in your home office, the one you shared with your boyfriend, with every single light in the room flipped on - we need proper lighting conditions, Santiago had insisted. You were perched in a swivel chair, your eyes closed and your boyfriend, perched in his own chair across from you, humming a merry tune and occasionally singing a lyric in Spanish as he did, in fact, paint your face with actual paint this time.

Quite a few minutes had passed since he brought a brush laden with wet goop to your face. “Santi? What are you doing, can I please open my eyes?” you asked, anxious to find out exactly what he was doing.

“Mmm, not yet, cariño,” Santiago replied. You felt a brush land on your nose, the tickle immediately taking hold of your senses as he began to paint again. “Keep ‘em closed until I say so.”

“Santiiiiii,” you whined, annoyed with both the feeling and his sentiment. A centipede crawling across your toes would be more welcome than the intense prickling under the bristles of his paintbrush.

You heard the amusement in his voice as he repeated, “Baby. Just sit still.”

‘Fine,” a huff escaped your lips. “I just don’t...why is there like an hour between what you paint on me, it’s not like we have mirrors in here so I don’t understand why I can’t open my eyes, and what the hell are you doing when you’re not doing things to my face?”

His brush continued its work as he considered your questions and answered them in turn. “Well, one, it’s not an hour, it’s like 10 minutes so I can let the paint dry before working on the next part. Two, because if you keep your eyes closed, your face stays in the same position and it makes this a lot easier and the end result much better.”

You made a small grunt of reluctant understanding at that.

“And three, I actually do have a small mirror in here, so I can work on my face while the paint on yours sets.”

“Wait. You’ve been painting your own face this whole time?”

“Of course I have,” Santiago replied with a genuine laugh. “It’s an important day. I’m not gonna paint yours and not have one to match.”

“I don’t even get how you can paint your own face, and why have we never done this before?”

“I’ve been doing this for years, honey. Well, I mean, I haven’t actually done it for a while, but it seemed like a good time to start again. Painting my own face isn’t that hard since I’ve done it so much, and I have done my own camo before.”

“I imagine this is a little different than camo.”

“Different, yes, but not necessarily easier. Just different. Now will you please stop talking and stay still, I need to work on your lips and cheeks,” Santiago said sternly.

Your breath snaked out of your lungs and you used every ounce of self-control to stop moving, but before you let your body go lax and still, you asked quickly, “Can you tell me the meaning behind the calavera again? I know I’ve heard it before, but...can you just keep talking? If I focus on your voice, it’ll help me stop squirming.”

“That’s not what happened earlier,” Santiago smirked.

“Santi,” you giggled, then tried to act as stern as he had been a few moments ago. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry, mi amor,” he replied quietly, the brush now painting lines on your lips. He continued in a warm, slow voice that nearly put you under, but you fought off the insistent call of sleep.

“Okay, so Día de Muertos is when we remember and pray for family and friends who have passed on. The calaveras, or sugar skulls, represent those people. The large one are for adults, and the small ones are for children. They can be decorative, or edible, or artistic like the ones I’m painting on our faces. It’s a huge holiday in Mexico, and my family always celebrated it since we were Catholic, and I’ve always just really liked the artistry in the face-painting so I learned how to do it. Now let that dry and then I’ll do the rest of the design.”

You sighed and sat back. You heard him humming to himself again, presumably as he worked on his own face, and waited.

A warm vestige of sleep did take you under this time, and when you felt wet paint hit your forehead, you nearly went through the ceiling, almost springing out of your chair. You probably would have made an actual hole above you, but Santiago’s strong hands pressed you to the leather beneath you.

You briefly considered that hole wouldn’t have been a total loss. You wanted to put a ceiling fan in that room anyway. You tried your best to clear your sleepy cobwebs without actually shaking your head.

“Baby,” he chided.

“I know, I know, stay still,” you muttered, returning to upright.

Santiago shook his head, even though you couldn’t see him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” your voice remained a mutter.

“You know,” he replied, “I could paint, like, all of you. That would be really sexy.”

This time, you chose not to verbally respond and you kicked his foot instead.

“Ow,” he grumbled. “Party pooper.”

“Just finish the job, Santiago.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He worked in silence for a few minutes more, adding...dots?...around your eyes - as far as you could tell with them still closed - and what felt like teardrop shapes on your forehead, and swirly shapes on your cheeks. 

Santiago finally made a noise, humming in satisfaction. “Okay, baby, you’re done. Now, just hang out like that for a few more minutes while I finish mine, yeah?”

“No,” you whined under your breath, making Santiago laugh. You laughed with him. He knew for all the trouble of making you sit still for so long, you were kidding, and he was grateful for it.

As you pushed your chair back slightly, you turned slow circles. You may still have to sit there, but at least you could do something other than just sit there now.

Mostly, you really wondered what Santiago was up to. You could hear him get out of his chair. You could hear vague rustling out in the living room, and then in your bedroom. You felt the change in air current when he came back into the office and hear several soft *fwick* sounds. You could hear his once-again humming voice, and noticed that his song had changed to…

That song. Your song. The song that was playing the first time you both said I love you.

“You can open your eyes now, mi amor,” Santiago called, a gentle whisper.

Gentle, flickering candlelight met your gaze first, the small mirror and your reflection in front of you second.

White paint was the backdrop on your face, with your eyes, nose, and lower cheeks blacked out, and black lines representing teeth painted over your lips. Purple dots ringed your eyes. A red flower and blue teardrop shapes graced your forehead, and various swirl patterns came down from your forehead and lined your cheeks. A red heart sat on your chin.

You had no idea your boyfriend was this creative and this talented. Another of Santiago Garcia’s hidden gifts.

“Santi, I lov---” you started, but then you noticed the third thing.

Santiago’s face.

Hovering directly above the small mirror, Santiago’s face looked mostly the same as yours. Same colors, minus the flower, more teardrops, and the dots surrounding his eyes were green, but otherwise, the same patterns. Except for the words.

Except for the words.

Above his right eyebrow, will.

Above his left eyebrow, you.

On his right cheek, marry.

On his left cheek, me.

You were pretty sure your eyes would pop out of your now-sugar-skull if they got any wider. Your lips parted but nothing came out.

Santiago lowered the mirror, tossing it onto the nearby desk. He sat back down on his office chair and took both of your hands in his. An eyebrow cocked and the corner of his mouth curled up before he pulled his bottom lip nervously with his teeth.

After a good minute, your brain reactivated. “Santi,” you started, “not that I have to think about my answer, but I do have my own question.”

“Okay?” his voice was still soft, and you could hear the slight waver in it. He really was nervous.

“Something tells me that’s not traditional Día de Muertos calavera design, so…?” you trailed off, cocking an eyebrow back at him.

He nodded. “You would be correct,” he smiled fully now, “but one of the really old meanings behind calaveras was rebirth into the next stage of life. And that’s what I felt when I met you and got to know you. I got to leave all the bad things I did in my past behind and spend all the good times in the present with you. And I want to spend them with you in the future, forever. You’re my rebirth, my next stage, my forever. So...what do you say?”

You didn’t stop the springing out of your chair this time. You pounced into Santiago’s lap, nearly knocking you both off his chair as you cupped the sides of his face. Part of your brain hazily registered that you were smearing his face paint, and your own with your tears running down your cheeks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Not even a little bit, not about that.

“Yes!” you cried. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Santiago responded by pulling your closer and pressing his lips to yours, over and over, while his hands held your face.

After a few minutes, you both separated for air, and you couldn’t help the small groan that left your mouth.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Santiago whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You motioned between the two of you, and grabbed the mirror so he could see what you were talking about. The beautiful paint job he had done was now completely destroyed, colors mixing and smearing, like an artist’s palette that had been dropped on the floor and then stepped on.

Or a clown with very dubious make-up application skills.

“The paint. You’re going to have to redo all this paint.”

Santiago laughed. You were right. The initial beauty was gone, but something even more magnificent had taken its place.

“Worth it.”

~end~

Tagging: @anetteaneta @darksideofclarke @girlwiththemostcake @deeandbobbymcgee @itspdameronthings @rosemarysbaby13 @writefightandflightclub @spider-starry @yourbucky084 @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall @veuliee2 (tag list always open - inbox me or comment if you’d like to be tagged)

[ryttu3k]

Finishing up SoNY, ‘bad’ end and final thoughts!

But first, the early game over.

Wow, she just gets shot. Not even slurped? That’s rude as hell XD;;

And on to the ‘bad’ end!

Beginning is much the same, ofc.

“You’re too in love with weaving a good story and establishing a seductive narrative to let facts get in the way.” Foreshadowing for the ‘good’ end, maybe?

God that Embrace scene gives me literal goosebumps.

Alright! Last time I did Danse Macabre and Retributive Justice, let’s try The Risks of Swiping Right!

lmao god I’d eat this guy too. Back to the ghost club! That legitimately is a really neat scene. ...Ooh yes so that’s where the girl was from.

Panhard just lowkey dying at the mental image of Katherine Weise in a fast food restaurant is so good.

The sweet scene between Julia and Dakota hits a bit different after the ‘good’ end XD;;

Went to the park, reminisced, and helped out the guy. That was sweet ;_; High-humanity Julia, this time!

‘Fairy God Mother?’ is great but ‘Vin Diesel?’ is objectively the funnier response.

“Shining even more brightly than usual, Aisling.” Samira got a cru-ush~

Poor Julie. It’s probably been tough without Sophie around :(

Huh. Interestingly, refusing to lie to Mia results in Julia actually feeling genuine loyalty to the Cammies (for now, at least).

Believing Agathon is still alive = more optimistic = different dialogue! See, this is how you make choices have consequences, game!

Oooh boy time to meet Adelaide XD;;

“She uncrosses her legs in a strangely seductive motion. In her mind’s eye, it probably looked like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, but in reality, it had all the grace of a tracksuit Slav squatting.” *snickering*

Fight me, Adelaide >:(

‘sup Nastya. Went with the slightly less disruptive routine here XD Huh, she’s an aspiring DJ! Julia is deeply confused as to how being a DJ and being head of security works together.

lmao Julia referring to Hope as a girlboss. That phrase has lost all meaning to me...

The conversation between Julia and Father Leonard is still really interesting. Man, you know who I want Julia to talk to? Anatole. Interesting insights into balancing being queer Catholic vampires there for sure.

lmao oh my god I want to fight this street reporter.

‘I can almost feel my brain losing its wrinkles.’ *snort*

Yeaghhhh the Abyss bit is still so creepy...

Oops. Being honest regarding Tamika and Torque’s relationships gets a fail :(

Oh, or not XD That works! Also, uh, apparently the giant albino ghoul alligator is real, according to New York by Night. He’s Calebros’ pet.

“Because I think I have a pretty good nose for people’s auras. And when I take a good look at you... ...somehow, I have a feeling you’re a surprisingly decent person. Whatever way of unlife you choose, I hope you don’t change it. And that you remember my advice.” :)

“I know.” Oof.

“Hi.” “WAAAH!” lmao sorry Princess XD;; Just trying to imagine Qadir’s face as he tells Julia to find a 1990 glass statue of Scrooge McDuck... dying...

Oh she’s so a Toreador XD Low art options are a fantasy book, an anime DVD, or a video game... those can all be arty, though! And went with the anime DVD called ‘Ririsu no Daibouken’... that translates to ‘Adventures of Lilith’. How on the nose XD “The cover says ‘Lilith’s Carnal Carnival’.” Oh. Yeah, that’d do it XD

“This 90s original video anime presents us with a tale of five big-bosomed samurai warriors travelling through America in search of General Hastavista, The Incubus King. Don’t let all the titillation misguide you: the main draws here are peerless direction, a nearly avant-garde editing rhythm and dialogue that coyly comments on traditional gender roles in anime. Once you see the animation in the final battle, you’ll understand why it never fails to set a sakuga fan’s heart ablaze!”

She’s my new favourite.

“So can I know your name now?”

“Hmmm... Let me think...

No. <3″

I need to stress that the heart appears in the dialogue box. Like. The actual less-than-three heart.

Didn’t investigate the rat this time, so Qadir did and I die. “Glad you’re alright, little guy.” Qadir...

Still not over the drunk blood doll rats.

Kaiser’s still a goddamn creep and this time Julia is not going too far. She still has her humanity, dammit. Final set of traits:

Loyal to the end

Glass half-full

Not into a bad cop schtick

Honesty is the best policy

No more human, still humane

Onwards to the ‘bad’ end! Oops, and Dakota still did the Single White Female thing XD;;

Man I’m still really curious who the ‘good friend’ is!!

Okay! Time for end game!!

So that’s the good friend, huh? “Let me phrase it differently, then. You’re not Ecaterina the Wise, the Agitator of Prague, a Brujah elder causing turbulences all over the world... are you?”

Mention of Christof! Mention of Christof doing shady shit :| Poor Hana.

“An immigrant from Eastern Europe comes to New York City, takes the position she always expected to find herself in, is molded into someone who is no longer herself.”

Julia and Dakota representing Carthage is kind of neat.

I want to say the mention of St Jude is a reference, but I’m not sure what to XD;; Is that from Redemption? Christof could have been the one to tell Hana that.

“Like a two-person human centipede loop or something. An Ouroburos? Or an, uhh, Mobius strip?” No, that’s the other traditionally Sabbat clan XD

That‘s. That’s a hell of a reconciliation XD “Yeah, let’s give it a try. By the way I’m on the run for my unlife, want to go to California and try to find utopia?”

Julia, wear a fucking mask XD

“Hey.”

“Yeah?“

“Do you love me?”

“... Of course I do. For now, at least.”

I still don’t know if I love her. Or even if I can love anyone, for that matter. I’m a fucking monster, after all. I don’t even know if we’ll exist next month. The prospects are not looking good. But although I can’t see myself in the rearview mirror right now...

...I will remember this image of us leaving the city, somewhat melancholic, and somewhat hopeful, forever. And maybe the meaning of this image will be clarified with time. Or maybe I will just force a more positive description on it, and that is what I’ll believe.

No matter what happens... even if oceans of blood lie before us, I will make this a cherished memory.

Whatever possible salvation still remains for me... ...it probably lies in the eyes of another.

Oh dang I have chills.

So the ‘bad’ ending is about the subverted compromise. Julia resigns herself to letting the compromise about the truth of Callihan’s death go ahead. ‘Catherine’ is a walking compromise to hide the Ecaterina’s real deeds. But while Hana is still stuck in her role for now, Julia refuses to accept the compromise she’s made, both the one relating to the investigation and the compromise she made of her own views and morals. It might blow up in her face, yeah. But damn, she’s going to try.

So, final thoughts! For the sake of completion, this is what I said about Coteries:

And of course this is the part where the game all falls apart :-\

Just… god. This is probably the biggest problem with CoNY, and the reason I didn’t bother getting it until it was like… 60% off. The bulk of the game is great - the writing is intriguing, the design is stunning. But the choices themselves are so limited it’s barely worth even getting it at 60% off!

You have three choices of characters, with their own opening chapters and own individual scenes with their touchstones. You have four choices of coterie members, and three sidequests. You can probably get in at least three full story arcs and a sidequest or two, but you’re only ever limited to two of your coterie members showing up at the not-yet-endgame.

So let’s say you decide to play all three protags, which, indeed, is encouraged (there’s an achievement for it). You are going to repeat coterie arcs and side quests, because there simply aren’t enough for three unique playthroughs.

And then you get to the end and literally everything is scripted. You get attacked by the SI. You get rescued by your two coterie members (and then never see them again, despite the game being called Coteries of New York). You meet Torque, you escape the SI, Sophie reveals her plan to Torque, you go to Ellis Island, Adelaide kills Sophie (and despite the fact that you’re given multiple options there, none of them work), Arturo does his spiel, end of game. You don’t even get to choose between ending up blood bound or going “no fuck you” and at least dying with a bit of dignity!

I just. I really want to like it, and there genuinely is a lot there to like! But uuuugh the ending. Like damn at least give the poor protag the option to choose what happens to them!

Anyway. Not sure what’s next. To get all the achievements, you have to finish with all three protags, so that’s three full runs and a lot of repetitiveness (compare to, say, Bloodlines or Night Road. I have eighty-five hours on Night Road and there’s still stuff I haven’t seen!), so I can’t even just… rush it through up to the meeting with the touchstones on the third play. Nope. Gotta finish it :-\

Final rating: 6/10

8/10 characters, 9/10 atmosphere, 8/10 story aside from ending, 3/10 story ending, 2/10 replayability. Final consensus: get it on major sale if you can, otherwise, you might as well just watch an LP. I might do that instead of doing a third run, although I at least want to do a second.

I ended up revising that 6/10 to 5.5/10 after finishing all runs and getting the achievements just out of how goddamn repetitive it was. So, how does Shadows measure up?

Absolutely continued with all the things I enjoyed about CoNY (characters, atmosphere, and writing), and of the bits I hated (cookie cutter protagonists, lack of real choice, repetitiveness, the godawful ending), every single part has been completely improved.

Instead of three fledglings so similar they even have the same internal thoughts, we have Julia, who’s got such a distinct voice that she becomes the most memorable game protag I’ve seen in years, and I’m including non-VtM games in this. This is absolutely her game, and it’s just... absolutely fascinating to read and watch.

Related - actual real choices. There are five key choices that determine the ending, and every single one has actual consequence in-game. You get different dialogue. Different introspection. Different philosophies. And this carries across - if Julia believes Agathon is alive, she’s more optimistic about her relationship with Dakota, too. And of course, both endings are completely distinct and incredibly written - the ‘good’ ending where Julia gives in to her most Lasombra instincts, plays the game, wins it, gets power and respect at the expense of her humanity and avoiding all those wraiths... or the ‘bad’ ending when she listens to her morals, reconciles with Dakota, and leaves for California, uncertain, but hopeful.

Not a lot of repetitiveness. Yes, by design, you’ll probably do two playthroughs. The main plot is much the same, but there are enough options there to get multiple dialogue options and stuff. And for the little sidequests, you can actually get all in with just the two playthroughs, only repeating like... two, I think. Still, I wasn’t feeling actively bored like I was midway through my second run of CoNY!

Loved seeing more in-depth backstory and development for the coterie members. Agathon’s section was particularly fascinating, literally getting into his head.

And just. Atmosphere and music is so, so good.

Final rating: 9/10. Thank you, Draw Distance, you hit it out of the park.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #367

“i should warn you that you may fuck me, but chances are i’m gonna fuck you over”

Where was the last place you went for vacation? The beach. When was the last time you wore makeup? Halloween. Do you watch soaps or drama series? If so, which ones? Not currently. What’s your favourite tomato variety? I hate tomatoes. What was your very first pet like? Dad had a dog named Trigger when I was born, but I have no memory of her, so I'm excluding her. I consider our first family pet to be Chance, a cat my mom took in after finding her literally in the trash. She was... god, incredible. She was a loyal friend, and I can imagine no greater mother than she was (she legit fought off a rottweiler head-on to protect her kittens). She was so smart, so gentle, and just simply amazing. I'll always miss her. What was the best school project you remember doing? Looking back, despite the fact it TERRIFIED me before, that would be my senior project presentation. It was about snake misconceptions and fallacies, so I made a slideshow to present to the special ed class. I made drawings for them to color, word searches, all that kind of stuff. They were just the sweetest and seemed really into it. What’s your favourite type of fish to eat? None. What kind of an old person do you think you’ll become? I really... don't like thinking about this. Like I'm weak enough now at 25, I can't imagine how my, say, 60s would be. I hope and just about pray that my physical health will improve, but I'm just going to exclude that part entirely from this answer. Personality-wise and such, I have a feeling I'll be the quiet and sweet kind, the one that loves her (hopeful) spouse like crazy, and comes most alive on Halloween if I live in a place where children come trick-or-treating. I imagine I would LOVE that. I'd love to be the type that goes on morning jogs to help stay spry. Which well-known person’s death shocked you the most, if any? Steve Irwin and Chester Bennington might be tied. Both were so, so sudden. Steve was like, invincible to my childhood eyes, and when I heard about Chester's death, I thought it was just a sick rumor. Two amazing people that died way too soon. What’s the craziest colour you’d dye your hair? That would depend on personal opinions. I want to dye my hair LOTS of colors though, if that tells you anything. What’s the coolest hobby one of your friends has? Uhhhh. Idk. Name a video game you can play over and over again: Shadow of the Colossus. It's a pretty short game if you know what you're doing, and it's super relaxing to me and just so goddamn pretty to look at. Every time I've played it has just been a pleasant experience. Do you like meatloaf? Yeah, it's fine. How about Meatloaf? I know who he is, but I've never really listened to his music. Do you take time to do charitable work? If so, what do you do? No. ;_; Especially with all the free time I have, I really should... What is something that will make you laugh instantly? Okay, don't ask, but if I for a SECOND see that commercial of Mr. Clean dancing while he's cleaning, I will die because of memories. What is something you hope you will never inherit from a specific relative? Diabetes. It runs heavily in my family. Name a movie you wouldn’t watch solely based on its name: The Human Centipede. No. Thank you. Have you ever played in a stack of hay bales? No. What’s your dearest souvenir? The stuffed moose I got at Cabela's during a visit to Ohio. I named him Brownie, and he was my "childhood plushie" we all have. Is there a lot of graffiti around your neighbourhood? Not in the actual area I live in, but there are DEFINITELY places where it's a pigsty of distasteful shit. Have you ever made your own soda? (Soda Stream doesn’t count!) No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Have you ever been part of a theater group? No, that stuff doesn't interest me. What’s the most ecological thing you do? We recycle, and I also use metal straws. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. There is no fucking way I could do it. What’s your favourite board game? Why do you like it best? I like Clue just because of the mystery-solving factor, and I think it's kinda cool how you can think ahead and use other's findings to your own advantage to win the game pretty early. Besides English, what other languages can you speak? Some German. It's gotten pretty weak with neglect, though. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you’ve been? This is a complicated answer that I just don't feel like elaborating on. What’s the most freeing thing you’ve ever done? Letting Jason go. Have you ever had a restaurant dish that was made with bugs? If not, would you even want to try one? No, and I'm not interested. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? Honeysuckles. What has been your worst restaurant experience? Well, it's a fast food restaurant, but lemme tell you about my vegetarian encounter with Burger King. I ordered their veggie burger. Which they have. It's not a secret. These idiots gave me a bun with tomato and lettuce, and I think mayo on it, after sounding confused when Mom was ordering for me. Mom went back in there of course to tell them, and oh god was the manager pissed, lol. I got my veggie burger in the end. What’s the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? Some sexually inappropriate jokes can still get me sadly, lol. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? Not literally, but boy do I think depression counts. Do you ever compare your life to somebody else’s? If so, why? Y E P. I can't tell you why, I just... do it. I look at other's successes and am just like, "Why aren't I there yet?", and beat myself up about being a failure. What is a food item or a dish you absolutely cannot stand? Brussel sprouts, asparagus, runny eggs, many other things because I'm just mega picky. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? Just the spray paint kind that vendors like to do at the beach and stuff. I don't remember any I got, though. What does your favourite mug look like? It's black with a Markiplier quote on it, given to me by Sara. :') Do you ever read other people’s survey answers? Yeah! Friends', anyway. I love learning all the obscure things about them. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, specifically early morning, because it's better for my depression. Are you more comfortable as a leader or a follower? A follower that isn't afraid to speak up when I'm really against something. What is your favourite song right now at this very moment? I've been really into "7empest" by Tool lately, and the synthwave edit of "Voices" by Motionless In White. If you watched The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, who was your favourite character? I don't remember it well, but I think I liked the butler. Was there even a butler? Who was your first online friend? Emma. :') Do you have any plants in your home? No. If you wear makeup, what’s the most outrageous colour you use? I only ever use black. What was the last photograph you took? My cat being adorable while sleeping. <3 Have you ever submitted a video to Funniest Home Videos? No. What was the first sport you learned how to play? I want to say soccer? I absolutely hated it. Do you have a headache at the moment? Yes, actually. I've really been attacked by the Covid shot side effects. Are your parents still together? No, thank god. What was the last hot food you ate? I made a chicken and I think pesto (some Italian noodles, idk) Healthy Choice bowl for dinner last night. Have you ever seen a meteor shower? No. :( Do you ever feel afraid people will question your sanity? I'm sure people have before, and back then? Rightfully so. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? Never watched it. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? Always. It's so weird how it's gotten worse with time since leaving school, even though I write... Were you a straight A student in math? Yeah, no. I usually got Bs or Cs. What is your favorite shade of yellow? Pastel. I don't really like yellow. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Have a stable job. Are you afraid of getting yelled at? YES. Do you feel a connection to the moon? It's not something I think about, so not really, but I do believe all things in the universe are connected in some way. We are simply a part of nature, as all else is. What does your heart long for? Contentment in who I am and where I am in life. I know I also miss being in love. Do you know what your purpose in life is? We have no innate purpose; we make our own, and I want mine to be to show others that there is always hope for yourself in yourself, and also to spread the message of love of all animals. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Last year I didn't. I really should change that this go around. Have you ever seen a fox? Yes! They're a kind of rare sight here sadly, so when I had the opportunity to photograph a fox tragically as roadkill, it was a photographic experience I won't forget. God, I wanted to pet it (I obviously didn't), but I did talk to it about how beautiful (s)he was as I got some shots. I never had a harder time leaving one of those angels I've taken pictures of. Do you find Halloween fun or scary? FUN!!!!!! Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Not at all. What do the trees look like where you live? I mean, there's a variety, but the staple that you see literally everywhere are pine trees. What is your dream vacation? Somewhere with mountains, clear lakes, cool weather, beautiful and various wildlife... What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Disney World as a kid. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? The zoo in the 5th grade. It was the one occasion I got to see meerkats. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? I lived for them. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find science museums to be very, very fascinating. Art ones are great, too. What are three issues you are passionate about? LGBT rights, the pro-choice movement, and wildlife conservation, to name a few. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? No. I'm not patriotic enough at all. What size is your bed? Queen. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? When we were experimenting with my Klonopin dosage, I learned that 3mg was enough to knock me on my ASS. Do you like bath bombs? I mean they're pretty, but I wouldn't waste money on 'em. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Yikes, a looooooot. But this also depends on what you think qualifies as "small." Most of my favorite "small" YTers are tarantula keepers or sub-1M let's players. Who are your favorite big YouTubers? Markiplier obviously, Snake Discovery, Good Mythical Morning (even if I don't watch them anymore, they are veeery dear to my heart and I will always support them), Sam & Colby... Again, there's a lot. When you don't watch TV and YT instead, you really get attached to a lot of them. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Would you believe me if I said Pussycat Dolls? haha Do you like Disney movies? Um, DUH. Were you ever in the popular crowd? No. Have you ever used an outhouse? UGH, at like childhood sports games, yes. I could NEVER nowadays, oh my god. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I have the creativity to, but not the dedication. Are there any foods that make you gag? Beans, for one. I just canNOT with them. It's a completely involuntary reaction. Have you ever had blonde highlights in your hair? I think I did? Who was the last person you video-chatted with? The lady who was seeing if I qualified for TMS therapy. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Definitely not, I love those. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I don't actually want one, but if I did, I'd go to a serious professional to get THE Darkiplier smile. :') If u know u know. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you think half blonde/half dark brown hair is attractive? It looks great on some people, but it's not my favorite combo.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 231: hey wHAT THE FUCK

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi was all “lol what if the guy who can clone himself but is too afraid gets over his fears and makes like 200,000 of him,” and then he chuckled and did it. Re-Destro was all, “(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ...hey, Skeptic.” Skeptic was all, “!!!” and quickly faded himself out of existence like that kid in that one meme. The Legion of Twices rolled across the city leaving chaos in their wake, and helping Compress out of a jam in the process. Meanwhile King Cone continued to harass Dabi, who’s apparently starting to cook himself from the inside out, which I think we can all agree is probably not good. Then, over in the Ol’ Villain Laboratory, Ujiko abruptly decided to throw the LoV a bone and wake up Machia, because I guess Horikoshi was all “so anyway we should do that climax now I guess.” So on to the climax we go?

Today on BnHA: Machia awakens and starts zooming toward where the action is. We then cut to Osaka, where Hawks is apparently waiting for Dabi to show up (he’s late, wonder why that is) because he has a delivery for him. No idea what said delivery is, none whatsoever. Oh hey there, flashback of Best Jeanist -- OH NO. FLASHBACK OF BEST JEANIST, HAWKS IS COMING. OH MY GOD HE HAS AIRPODS ON HE CAN’T HEAR US ffffff. Anyway so we’re just going to ignore all of that, and back in the present Twice catches up with Spinner and Tomura who are both happy to see him and very pleased with his recent character development. The group of them have almost made it to Re-Destro’s tower, although both Spinner and Twice appear to be concerned about Tomura’s current exhausted state. The chapter ends with Twice (well, one of the Twices) arriving in the tower to rescue Princess Giran from Re-Destro’s clutches, which, fuck yeah.

(All comments are my 99% unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity immediately afterward, and added a couple of ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

so if anyone tried to send me an ask in the last 24 hours or so, you may have noticed that my inbox was temporarily closed (I’ve reopened it now). this was due to a very polite anon ask I received yesterday morning which was nonetheless ominous as fuck

like, holy shit, lol. so of course my brain immediately panicked and came up with a whole list of things that this could possibly be referring to

Giran dies

someone else dies

Horikoshi kills another dog

Kacchan’s provisional license is revealed but his thumb is conveniently blocking out his hero name because Horikoshi is, in fact, evil

Re-Destro transforms into a big ugly spider-crab creature like Overhaul

RD transforms into something even worse, like a mushroom, or a centipede

worst-case scenario: “My Hero Academia will be on break next week.” or for two weeks. or, god forbid, an entire month. can you even fucking imagine holy shit

so anyway, as previously mentioned I immediately closed my asks so as to protect myself from any potential spoilers, and then I settled in to wait. and now I am finally reading the chapter, so I guess I should brace myself for whatever terrible things are about to unfold

and we’re opening with... what the fuck...

I guess it’s a nose lol

lmao oh my god

are you telling me he is going to track down Tomura by scent. Tomura just how rank are you after six weeks of nonstop battling in the woods. no wonder Machia hates you so much. was it really so simple this whole time

anyway, so now this is happening

I’m not even the one he’s hunting down and even I’m terrified. say a quick prayer for the Liberation Army of Assholes, everyone. they were, as the name implies, assholes, but I’m not sure anyone deserves what’s about to go down. Geneva Convention about to be violated something fierce

ASKDFJLWIREFJOAIJDLKLSDKFJSLDAKF

WELL IF IT ISN’T THE BIRB TRYING TO GET IN TOUCH WITH HIS BOYFRIEND, WHO UNBEKNOWNST TO HIM IS CURRENTLY FIGHTING GOOD HUMOR WHILE TRYING TO COPE WITH HIS ORGANS BEING ON FIRE. HELLO THERE, HANDSOME

8. new worst-case scenario: Hawks fucking dies. oh my god. I’m about to go put this whole fucking chapter down right now and go take a walk while trying not to panic

so Hawks is crouching on that rooftop with a big ol’ bag. whatcha got there Hawks

(ETA: (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻)

and he’s being smart and stuff

okay correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure that Various Bits Of Giran ominously turning up at all of the League’s Greatest Hits locations ought to count as an incident related to the League. eh?? sounds to me like the Hero Network has been slacking

-- NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!

9. NEW NEW WORST-CASE SCENARIO BEST JEANIST FUCKING DIES WHAT THE FUCK

(ETA: and I also missed the part about the sidekicks the first time around! what the fuck!!)

BITCH I REALLY AM ABOUT TO GO OUT ON THAT WALK!?!? WHAT’S HORIKOSHI’S EMAIL I WANT TO WRITE HIM A VERY STRONGLY WORDED LETTER

shit. well look. if I just stop right here and don’t finish the chapter then it can’t hurt me. but on the other hand, if I quit BnHA right now and delete my tumblr then I’ll never find out Kacchan’s hero name. so anyway this is a really big dilemma for me as you can see guys, but I guess I’m just gonna have to suck it up and read on anyway because I apparently hate myself

ohhhhh shit

who’s he talking to?? that doesn’t sound like Dabi. and Tomura doesn’t know that Hawks exists. I’m thinking this must be Ujiko, then

lol he’s apparently out in public while taking this call, and his adoring fans are all “OMG WHO’S HE TALKING TO IS IT HIS GIRLFRIEND.” first of all, I think we all know Hawks doesn’t swing that way. and second of all, haha nope

anyway so now he’s flying off to go get some fucking privacy

okay now I’m absolutely positive this isn’t Dabi lol

because if that is Dabi being all “SPICY!!!” then I must say I’ve really failed to get the correct read on Dabi’s character up to this point. like, I could not have gotten that more wrong if I tried

wow Hawks is really going all in on his whole “secretly disgruntled traitor” act. if I didn’t know better I sure would be convinced

I love the juxtaposition between what he’s saying and what he’s actually thinking here. he’s so fucking smart, it’s ridiculous. constantly playing this dangerous game of chess in his head and judging what to say and how to act to best gain their trust

wow who is this?? maybe it really is Dabi

either that or someone new?? is the plot thickening?? jesus christ I was not prepared for any of this, I thought it was just gonna be a chapter of Gigantomachia fucking shit up. not all of this Intrigue

yep it is Dabi. wow Dabi. I’m gonna call you Spicy from now on you little freak

-- HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

BACK THE FUCK UP. IS THIS IMPLYING THAT FUCKING HAWKS IS RESPONSIBLE FOR KIDNAPPING OR FUCKING MURDERING MOTHERFUCKING ULTIMATE FINEST JEANIST, BECAUSE I’M ABOUT TO LOSE MY SHIT OVER HERE WHAT THE FUCK

AND NOW WE’RE CUTTING TO ANOTHER BUILDING SOMEWHERE, STILL IN FLASHBACK MODE, AND IMMA KEEP THE CAPSLOCK ON JUST IN CASE BECAUSE I HAVE A FEELING THAT WE MAY JUST BE IN NEED OF IT

I CAN’T BELIEVE HORIKOSHI WENT FROM “HAHA LOOK AT ALL THESE TWICES” TO “HAWKS FUCKING MURDERS BEST JEANIST!!!” IN THE SPAN OF A SINGLE CHAPTER OH GOD

OH GOD!!!

BUT CAN YOU LIVE WITHOUT TWO LUNGS, BEST DEAD MAN WALKING???

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKFLSDKJ

MAYBE I DON’T REALLY NEED TO KNOW KACCHAN’S HERO NAME AFTER ALL SOB IT’S BEEN A GREAT MANGA EVERYONE, WONDERFUL GETTING TO KNOW YOU ALL BUT I CAN’T

... [CLICKS TO NEXT PAGE WHILE SOBBING!!!]

HEY WHAT THE FUCK WHAT IS THIS! WHERE DID THE FLASHBACK GO!!

HEY GUYS. OKAY LISTEN. IF BEST JEANIST’S HEAD IS IN THAT BAG, I’M ABOUT TO RAGE QUIT THIS WHOLE SCENE THOUGH

aaaaaaand now we’re cutting back to King Joffrey* VS Choco Taco. great

*this is a reference to Game of Thrones you guys. “bring me his head!” it’s not the best joke because I immediately realized it would probably require an explanation, hence me explaining it right now. but I’m not gonna go back and delete it though because, well. if the shoe fits, Spicy Boi

maybe it’s not Best Jeanist’s head. maybe I’m having an extreme overreaction to this whole thing. maybe the bag is filled with flowers. or letters to Santa that he’s delivering. or something else really good and wholesome and not-terrible

maybe they found someone with a cloning quirk like Twice’s, and they made a fake Jeanist and decapitated him? Hawks isn’t a fucking murderer though, like surely he wouldn’t go that far to gain the League’s trust even if it would save a lot of lives in the long run. right?? someone please reassure me here I feel like I’m on a boat slowly drifting out to sea with no way back sob help

oh hey look who finally decided to show up again!

and Spinner too! somehow I straight up forgot about him. maybe he’ll finally show us his quirk and we can forget all this Sopranos bullshit

wow, despite being completely fucking tanked from sleep deprivation Tomura is actually having a very reasonable conversation with Spinner and I’m fucking impressed actually

it’s really starting to seem that the lack of sleep is actually making him saner, which is extremely intriguing. it’s like whatever brainwashing/mental manipulation that Ujiko and AFO did is slowly losing its effect because of how tired he is. first the flashbacks, then the power upgrade, and now this uncanny single-minded focus that he’s developed. idk, just my theory, but I think we’re seeing a bit of his real personality starting to shine through here

anyway so I guess all these fuckers are about to die

place your bets everyone. will it be Tomura continuing on his rampage? Spinner finally revealing his quirk? Machia making his grand entrance? or a surprise entrance from Hawks wondering why his boyfriend didn’t show in Osaka like they agreed to retrieve his head in a bag sobbbbb

and maybe I should take back what I previously said about Tomura becoming saner, though. ...

though I mean, even if he’s saner in general he is still kooky from the no-sleep though

also it looks like the Twices have finally arrived! I didn’t even include them as an option to bet on. I’m really losing my touch here. it’s almost as if I’m distracted by something!!

okay, and now Twice is tackling Tomura to the ground for some reason while screaming “HIYAAAAH!” not how I was expecting you to deal with the situation Jin but okay

okay but not only is Tomura accepting this with more grace than some football quarterbacks, but he’s genuinely starting to remind me of Deku now holy shit. I take back my take-back. jesus christ when did he get so mellow?!

“I have no idea why you just fucking shoved me into the pavement for no reason but wow, you’ve really gotten stronger bro!” okay, things I was not expecting to happen in this chapter: Hawks going Full Evil while Tomura inches ever closer toward being a straight up nice dude

Twice is all “yeah!!” and says he hopes he can finally be useful to Tomura now. aww

meanwhile the Army of Dipshits is charging in again since they all want to die, apparently. I keep waiting for a few of them to have an epiphany in the background and be all “you know what, maybe I should get the fuck out of here and to hell with Re-Destro though.” but nope, they’re all idiots. it’s really something

Tomura is so fucking nice. his niceness is the balm I needed to soothe my anxiety over Best Deadest Jeanist

... [headpats]

he remembers from before that RD and Giran are supposedly up in the tower, and he’s more than ready to kill the former. quote unquote, “kill him reeeealll good.” that’s what I like to hear, Tomura

oh my god

motherfucking League of Softies right here. well except for Todoroki “Queen of Hearts” Touya. there, I worked in a more accessible chopped-off-heads reference for you guys. anyways he has issues, but the rest of the League of Angels is very sweet though

so Twice is shouting “just leave it to mes! hang on Giran, I’m coming for ya!” and I suddenly got scared all over again for Giran oh my god. please don’t hurt him, I was prepared for it before but now Best Jeanist is dead probably and I’m a fragile, vulnerable mess who’s trying to cope with humor and failing sob please

oh my GOD

SHIGARAKI TOMURA I KEEP JOKING ABOUT HOW NICE YOU ARE AND YOU KEEP ESCALATING YOUR LEVEL OF NICENESS TO MATCH MY FUCKING EXAGGERATIONS THOUGH, WHAT THE FUCK. “I WON’T FORGIVE YOU FOR TOYING WITH PEOPLE’S HEARTS LIKE THAT.” FOR REAL?!?! WHO EVEN ARE YOU

oh it’s this guy again

so did I honestly

you deserve to die a quick and brutal “Indiana Jones shooting the guy with the big sword” death, buddy. my fingers are crossed for Gigantomachia to just plow right through you as soon as I click to the next page. Horikoshi owes me, so

goddammit

wow this is almost verbatim Syndrome’s speech from the first Incredibles

also these guys just keep on getting more horrible. good job assholes

so Spinner’s thinking to himself that every time Hanabata gives a speech his lackeys get more fired up. and he’s wondering what to do because ‘I can’t let Shigaraki get any more exhausted!’

the love these guys have for each other though, I swear. like it genuinely is the sweetest thing. honestly the only real problem I have with this arc so far is that my disbelief is going to be crazy suspended if and when they go back to kidnapping kids and shit after this arc. there’s just no way I’ll be able to reconcile that in my head with the current League of Darlings here. I feel like it would be more consistent for their next scheme to be them angrily raising money for a charity or something

now what’s happening up in the tower

oh shit

that was fast Jin

and he continues to be hot. now he’s even doing it while still wearing the Deadpool mask! this is outrageous

gotta love that trash talk. “so you’re the asshole that kidnapped our broker and chopped off his hand and beat up my girlfriend! well guess what! YOU’RE BALD YOU BIG JERK”

Giran hotness status: still hot. this one basically goes without saying but it’s still worth a mention

bold fucking move bringing up your dead mouse secretary, Re-Jerko. sob. please don’t kill Giran or Twice. is that the real Twice?? -- no, because the real Twice is still sitting in that backyard with his arms broken, that’s right. but still, I’d prefer if you didn’t kill this one either though but whatever

where is Skeptic. you’d figure he’d have run into him on his way to the top of the tower. that’s unsettling, him still being out there somewhere

lastly, so long as Schrödinger’s Jeanist’s status remains unconfirmed I will go ahead and assume those really are letters to Santa in Hawks’s bag. that’s so sweet of you Hawks. you’ll fit right in with the League of Saints and I’m sure they’ll be pleased to welcome you

what a sweet and wholesome chapter where nothing bad happened and Best Jeanist is probably just off in Tahiti somewhere enjoying life with his one remaining lung well good night everyone

[weaverlings]

(so this is super long and mainly about WTNV because that’s the part I understand, or... at least have spent a lot of time thinking about, but there’s definitely a heavy component of comparison between the two series in this)

@vildflower said: I’ve been thinking how wtnv and tma approach similar concepts of vaguely otherworldly entities who are only somewhat connected to the universe that they seem to operate in vs. the universe that they seem to exist in

so this is all super interesting stuff thank u!!!! I just needed to get to the computer to go over it properly bc tbh it deserves it

vildflower said: like,, tma has the whole concept of rituals and avatars whereas wtnv could arguably have. a hierarchy? like when you think about it;; huntokar, the distant prince, the woman from italy, even the great golden hand, are ancient and possibly the closest to ‘gods,’ who dont interact w nightvale often but either have vested interest in it or are able to interact w it more easily due to number of reasons as compared to, like, the rest of the world? 

Part of the reason I listened to The Magnus Archives in the first place was because I’d heard hints of the connection between belief (fear specifically, as it happened) and reality, and the tangible effects that this connection has. I have pretty much always interpreted Night Vale along similar lines, but now having listened to TMA... I don’t feel like the execution is all that similar? 

While the lines are super fun to draw, WTNV doesn’t have such clear divisions or, well... I guess TMA didn’t, either, but I don’t think WTNV does have such clear organizational structure?

I think the/a key difference between WTNV and TMA is that not all of the entities of Night Vale necessarily tie back into an overarching force, or at least... the same overarching force. Which you go into, but that’s just such a core aspect of TMA that it at least feels pretty distinct. 

And the gods of Night Vale, I think, all have a much clearer and even more “relatable” sentience than the Powers. The gods have trouble communicating with other people, in various ways, but they also, say, express regret or ask for coffee when they do communicate.

vildflower said: and then theres the smiling god who could be said to be in a category of his own, or even perhaps in the same category as cecil- the way the smiling god’s existence seems to be in direct connection to desert bluffs/the joyous congregation and cecil seems to ‘depend’ on nightvale and its residents. or maybe it would be more accurate to equate station management and the smiling god, both finding ways to communicate w their respective towns through 'avatars’: cecil & kevin.

Yeah! If being a “Voice” means anything, I do think it would be related to these gods... I guess it would’ve been Huntokar, once, for Cecil. (And now, well... I don’t know. But if bloodstone worship is just happening, that’s a lot of undirected faith, and I feel like it needs to go somewhere... or to something.) And yup, for Kevin, it would be the Smiling God.

However, one thing I’m hoping we’ll see from this arc is addressing the fact that what the Joyous Congregation THINKS is the Smiling God is apparently really different from what it actually is. Even some of the church elders - the actual pastor - believed that it was the centipede, and this would seem to indicate that’s not true. 

I mean, if nothing else It Devours! was pretty clear about the fact that the centipede was just an animal, so I don’t see it or anything like it having plotted or directed someone to exploit people’s brains for labor in the future

So I wouldn’t put the Smiling God in the same category as Cecil, or even Kevin, but I think Cecil and Kevin occupy the same category like you said... 

For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought of Cecil more like an “oracle” (even before Alice Isn’t Dead!!) - giving advice or answering questions, kind of a guide, if in a sort of opaque or enigmatic way, whether he wants to be or not. And then Kevin is more like a prophet - offering a vision of how things should be, giving commandments, etc, regardless of what people might ask for or what would help them.

vildflower said: continuing this heirarchy the next lower tier would perhaps be city council and the librarians which have pretty fixed, smaller areas of direct interaction w nightvalians. there’s also the spire! which sounds quite similar to the spiral, i think….

I think that’s a good example of how it’s different... “Barks” sounded like the kind of thing that could have been related to the Spiral, that sort of distortion. But the purpose was different - the Spire wanted to bargain, and from the sound of it it’s a lot more open about its demands (iirc: Night Valian “Thanksgiving” involves going out to thank the Spire for its “mercy”). It’s also a known destination. 

People in Night Vale know what it is to them. They may not know what it is exactly, but they do know the role it plays in their community. So while it absolutely fits into the structure of Night Vale, I don’t think it’s that similar beyond some (admittedly major) aesthetic elements?

All of those forces in Night Vale, the librarians and the council etc, while indeed forces and while they definitely relate to the human citizens in weird ways... they’re still citizens. 

The Powers are TIED to the world of TMA, but an explicit part of it is that they’re fundamentally alien to it, too, and basically need to be forced in.

vildflower said: but yeah,, hope you don’t mind the long rant rip aksk but at this point I’m pretty sure one could draw up a list of some 15 nightvale entities too lmao

(fdsdgh no you don’t need to apologize, I loved it and I’ve been thinking about this kind of thing a lot anyway too!!)

vildflower said: HOW COULD I FORGET! the glow cloud interacts w an even smaller group of people (the PTA) than the city council + angels!! I’d say they’re actually at the lowest rung cause they seemed to only be interested in josie; maybe their attachment to them in turn lead to be attached to nightvale even after she died?

actually the Glow Cloud works w/ the school board and seems to end up in conflict w/ the PTA and I only remember this because I was checking on it for something recently oops. 

ALSO THE ANGELS... YEAH THAT’S NEAT because!! they’re the only part of this that has an explicit connection to belief in canon!!

“They are all named Erika with a K. All angels are equal to all other angels. They share all memories and all physical sensations. They experience everything simultaneously. Their minds are overwhelmed with enlightenment and pain.

“They have no centralized leadership, but they do have committees, lots of committees. These committees do not have titles nor objectives. The committees simply emerge as needed...

“Angels have no bodies, only visual projections of winged, barely humanoid forms. These forms are dreamed up by those who see and acknowledge them, and may vary based on the viewer.

“The secret hierarchy of angels is an ethereal mass of feelings and thoughts made manifest by necessity. They’re only individual beings because we imagine them so, but they are collectively beings.”

But I think, yeah... Night Vale is, at its core, a community. And the worldbuilding of WTNV reflects that, even to the extent that belief is involved. I mean, really, the world does run on “belief” it’s just not a supernatural thing... We believe in the necessity of our social structures, so we create and act on them. 

And that’s what happens in Night Vale, it’s just that in Night Vale, a divine Glow Cloud runs the school board and the librarians will eat you. All the “forces” that we expect are there. Even though they’re strange (to us, at least), it’s all centered around the maintenance of a community. TMA has a much larger scope.

theres that whispering forest too and omg the desert otherworld, and the black star in ‘a story about you’ & other episodes; entities that manifest more as locations than sentient beings? 

So yes!! Night Vale as a place is definitely a gathering point for the weird. I think of Hiram’s favorite memory in this context, too - Hiram was happy in Night Vale because he could just live, for a while, anyway. Or at least, when people were upset, they weren’t upset by his nature as a five-headed dragon (who cares, right?) but because of what he did)

It does have a clear structure, but it’s not the same kind that the Powers operate under - WTNV (depending on interpretation, and none of it is canon tbh, as much as I love it) and TMA are both very different explorations of the connection between belief and reality.

Like the Whispering Forest is... well, apparently it’s its own town now. But it was sort of the local weird forest; it was... a citizen, maybe. In the way, indeed, that the Glow Cloud still is! It just wants to live (and grow. and expand) and Night Vale is a place it can do that. 

The Desert Otherworld seems to be connected to the Smiling God, although we don’t know much about how or why or if it’s always been that way. Dana saw some things, though, like when she almost forgot herself in the image of a triangle (iirc), not to mention the rumbling and whatever’s up with the Mudstone Abyss... And then it does have its connection to Night Vale, too, through the Dog Park... There’s a LOT going on w/ the Otherworld; that’s basically its own post dsfdgfdg 

And the dark planet lit by no sun is like. I admit I’ve never thought of it in the same light as the other things before! So I’d want to do that before going into it but that raises some SUPER interesting possibilities and if you have more thoughts I’d love to hear them! It definitely merits that further consideration. 

So in summary: TMA has rituals and avatars, and WTNV has community. I think.

[mst3kproject]

1110: Wizards of the Lost Kingdom

I only saw this episode once, while I was on my two-day binge back when season eleven first debuted – and by then I was kind of running out of binge-watching oomph, because I don’t think I paid much attention to it.  If I had, I wouldn’t have been so blindsided by shit like the mermaid and her rainbow bridge or the flying lion-centaur whatchamafuckit.  Wizards of the Lost Kingdom is depressingly cheap and desperately amateurish, but it's also unbelievably fucking weird.

There’s a great evil abroad in the land or something.  The Castle(TM) is Attacked and the resident Bearded Wizard(TM) gives his son the Callow Youth(TM) a Magical Ring(TM) to keep safe – but of course the stupid kid drops it on the way out.  After gathering a few allies, slaying a few monsters, and dabbling in casual necromancy, the boy sneaks back into the castle to retrieve the ring and do wizardly battle with the bad guy.  The day is saved, the princess is rescued, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.  The music attempts to convince us that this is epic and exciting, rather than corny and embarrassing.

I have rarely felt as bad for a group of actors as I did watching Wizards of the Lost Kingdom.  I kept wanting to hide behind the couch so I wouldn’t have to look at the expressions on their faces as they humiliate themselves by being in this movie.  Even Crabby the Crab Hat doesn’t want to be here.  The whole thing looks like a third grade class put on a play starring everybody’s parents.  The only person who gets out with any shred of dignity is whatever poor bastard was hiding under the Gulfax suit… oh, no, wait, no he didn’t, because according to IMDB the same actor also played Dad the Wizard.

Let’s look at our characters.  There’s our hero Simon, who is about thirteen and seems to be familiar with the concept of a quest but would probably much rather be reading a book somewhere.  His buddy is Gulfax, a dude who paid way too much for his alpaca fursuit.  Kor the Conquerer is supposed to be a troubled alcoholic mercenary, but he really does look like Gordon Ramsay except not as badass. The wicked queen dresses like she’s trying to look sexy for the Swamp Thing.  Princess Aura acts like your nine-year-old sister parading around in one of those Disney Princess gowns.  The bad guy is less impressive than his own fashion accessories and can disintegrate people except when it would be inconvenient for the plot.  Simon can disintegrate people, too, but saves it for non-humans despite the fact that they’re shown to be sentient.

Then there’s what all these people actually do. Despite a much more kid-friendly tone, Wizards of the Lost Kingdom is a lot like Ator: the Fighting Eagle.  Both movies present us with characters who are supposedly on a heroic quest, but all we see is them wandering around the woods while random things happen. When I tried to describe this film to a co-worker, I realized I could talk about the various incidents in whatever order I liked, because none of them really contribute to the plot or even connect to each other.

Take, for example, the bit where Kor is captured by the cyclops who wants him to marry his sister (the cyclops’ sister, that is.  Wizards of the Lost Kingdom isn’t that much like Ator).  It comes and it goes, and that’s it.  Kor had earlier said he didn’t know who this mysterious bucket-helmeted figure was, and Simon pouts a bit because that was a lie. It really, really doesn’t feel like the major betrayal the script wants us to think it was.  It comes across as the cyclops’ sister being an embarrassing ex-girlfriend Kor just didn’t want to talk about, and he and Simon argue for thirty seconds and then hug and make up, completely negating whatever small emotional impact the whole thing might have had.

Or how about the part where Simon straight-up raises the dead? In most fantasy settings that would be considered a turn down a dark path, with far-reaching consequences for both the plot and the character development.  In Wizards of the Lost Kingdom the corpses get up and basically tell Simon to get fucked because they want to rest, and then crawl back into their graves.  This is a world where black magic exists and can claim your soul, but apparently necromancy isn’t in that category.  All that happens is Kor tells Simon to respect the dead more.

What about the bit where Simon realizes the bad guy and his Crab Hat are spying on them through a magical birdbath?  The kid casts a spell that makes the water explode in the evil dude’s face so he can’t see them anymore, but this has no plot consequences because a scene or two later the bad guy has simply re-filled the birdbath and is watching them again.  Why did we even need to see that?  Why did we need the bit with the little gnome dude who enables Kor’s alcoholism? The drinking is never a plot point because this is a kids’ movie (unless marrying the cyclops’ sister was something Kor promised to do while drunk), and the gnome promises to re-join them for the climax but when he does he just watches.

How about the part where Kor tries to save a drowning topless blonde woman in the weirdly orange river (this is the only place where I can definitely identify a shot MST3K cut, since we got one very brief look at her tits)? She vanishes only to reappear on a rock with one of those mermaid tail blankets over her legs, telling them she was testing their manhood to see if they were worthy of her help!  They were, so she creates a rainbow for them and tells them to follow their hearts across the river!

Uh.  Okay. So I can see how Kor was worthy, since he jumped in and all, but Simon stood on the shore yelling at him to stop because it’s too dangerous.  Shouldn’t his unmanly ass get left behind?

Unquestionably, however, the weirdest thing in the movie is the fucked-up trippy vision Simon has while bug-woman plies him with drink and flower petals.  This scene fascinates me.  So there’s a bunch of Satanists sacrificing women on a spray-foam altar, while a voice tries to tempt Simon to the dark side.  In response, he summons up the ‘forces of good’ to deal with the situation, and they appear in the form of this stop-motion… chimera… thing. Imagine a lion centaur, only both the horse part and the human part are lions, so it’s like a six-legged, two-torsoed leonine centipede abomination, but instead of arms on the upper set of shoulders it has weird veiny bat wings.  It hovers there snarling while the Satanists complete their sacrifice, which summons a giant floating semi-transparent head in some scaly makeup.  The head makes faces and breathes green fire, until the lion thing glares cartoon lightning at it and it explodes.

What the actual unmotivated fuck. What even was that? I want to say it’s demonstrating that Simon is pure of heart and can’t be tempted to evil but like ten minutes later he’s raising the fucking dead.  What the hell is with the lion monster?  Is it a metaphor for something?  Is it saying that the forces of good can be just as terrifying as those of evil, like how if you read descriptions of angels they actually look like beasts from your nightmares?  Was it actually supposed to be pretty and the model-makers just weren’t up to the task? What am I looking at?

Did anybody actually realize how weird this all was?  One does get the impression that the writers were just scribbling down whatever bullshit came into their heads without regard for continuity or anything.  Can we have a mermaid in our movie?  Sure, why the hell not.  Zombies? Awesome, everybody loves zombies, throw ‘em in there.  A garden gnome?  A goat-man playing the pan flute?  A jilted cyclops with a spiral perm?  Absolutely, the more, the merrier!  Concepts!

And yet for all that, the single worst failure of writing in Wizards of the Lost Kingdom is the anticlimax of the ending.  Through the whole movie everybody’s been looking for the Ring of Magic, which makes the wearer all-powerful.  One of the wicked queen’s dwarves (played by actual little people who should all have been paid double for being in the same movie where the queen says we’re running out of dwarves) finds it, but Simon snatches it back a moment later and goes out and saves the day.  Of course he does – he’s all-powerful.  It’s a foregone conclusion.  The only tension comes from wondering how many of those kids who were freed from prison are gonna get swords in the gut while Simon worries about making pretty special effects in his wizard’s duel.

One last bit of illogical crap.  After the battle, Kor wanders off to go back to his ‘itinerant boozehound’ gig, and tells Simon to be a good king.  Uh… Simon’s not gonna be king.  The rightful heir is Princess Aura, who’s literally right there.  Simon can marry her and be royal consort if she still likes him once they’ve both been through puberty.  Is there a law in this kingdom that if you save the day you get to be in charge?  That does seem to be where the last guy got his throne… and yet I have a faint suspicion that the writers just assumed Simon would rule instead of Aura because he’s got a penis and she doesn’t.

All that may have given the impression that I hate this movie but I really don’t.  Wizards of the Lost Kingdom just isn’t worth the effort.  Instead I just pity this movie and everybody in it.  Every last one of them did a terrible job, and yet they still all deserved better.  On every possible level, Wizards of the Lost Kingdom is truly less than the sum of its parts.

[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...

[breeeliss]

[Miraculous Ladybug]: It’s a Match!

one more chapter left after this :)

continuation of my secret santa gift for @neverbetheexpectation​ 

--

[Chapter 1]  [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

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Title: It’s a Match!

Summary: “Oh my God, I just matched with Adrien Agreste, oh my freaking God! Chat!! Chat, come come come! Look look!”

But Chat Noir wasn’t paying her any mind. Because the moment she started screaming about her new match, Chat Noir tried to quickly exit out of his matches page so that he wouldn’t see who popped up. But it was far too late, because right when he blinked, his phone buzzed with an excited message about his new match.

He was not expecting it to be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapter 4: Date

Adrien realized after the first five minutes of their walk that he sort of forgot what you were supposed to do during a date.

He only ever really went on one date. It was with another model from a photoshoot he did a few months back, and it was only because the girl was being so insistent. She decided on every single location they went to, she clung to him throughout the entire evening, was gushing about three dates in the future, and she almost pulled him into a kiss at the end of the date before Adrien ducked away from it and hurried down the block. Nino assured him that’s not how dates were supposed to go — they were supposed to be fun, no-pressure chances to hang out with someone you liked. If kissing and handholding happened to fall into that, then so be it. It all depended on the person.

Sure that sounded reasonable, but Adrien was trying to figure out how romance was supposed to fit into this. Talking wasn’t a problem for the two of them. Thankfully, Marinette and Adrien were at the very least able to keep a light conversation. Adrien was trying to sneak chocolates away from Marinette and Marinette was running up the block away from him and stuffing as many in her cheeks as she could. It was how they always interacted when they hung out with their friends. But this was a date. Was he allowed to hold her hand? Were chocolates too romantic to bring? Not romantic enough? Should he even be trying to be romantic? Was it alright to kiss her? Adrien thought of taking his cue from her, but so far everything felt normal sans the fact that they dressed up a little more than usual and that they had an itinerary for just the two of them. Not that he minded that, but….he wanted this to be just a little different. He wanted it to feel different. He wanted Marinette to notice the difference.

Adrien tried to remember what Nino told him after an enthusiastic Alya had hung up to go rant to Marinette. “Don’t force things, dude. If something’s meant to happen, it’ll happen. Just make sure you both have fun. That’s what matters.”

He took a huge gulp of air. Nino was right. Just show her a good time. Everything else will fall into place.

They were in the middle of a heated debate about white chocolate — Adrien insisting that it was delicious, and Marinette insisting that it wasn’t even chocolate to begin with — that Marinette didn’t even notice that they stopped in front of a huge building in the middle of the block. She turned around, stared up at the sign at the top of the door, and gaped. “No you didn’t….”

Adrien held the door open for her. “After you, Mademoiselle.”

The arcade he took her to was one that Adrien used to run away to when he was annoyed with his father and asked Chloe to cover for him and tell no one where he went. It was perfect because he could always use his allowance to buy as many tokens as he wanted, win thousands of tickets, and always go home with one of the more expensive prizes, which always left him feeling a bit better. He’d need it since he always came home to a lecture. But as often as he and Marinette bonded over video games, he never ever thought to take the two of them here. Based on the way she was gawking at all of the games, noise, and excitement, Adrien figured this was a long time coming. He nudged her in the arm and grinned. “Down for a little competition?”

Marinette snorted. “You are playing with fire there, buddy.”

Adrien pulled out a few notes of money and waved them in front of her face. “We’ll see.”

He went to the purchase counter and dramatically gave Marinette a bag of fifty tokens a moment later. Her eyes widened at the weight as she hugged them to her chest. “This is so many! Are you trying to blast a whole day here?”

He pointed above her head to the high priced prizes hanging above the counter. “Eh, I’m sort of eyeing that huge Ladybug plush. It’s 120,000 tickets. I think 100 tokens is enough to get that, huh?”

Marinette scoffed. “And what makes you think I’m going to help you get that?”

“Alright, how about this?” Adrien countered. “We both pool together our tickets to get the plush. But the one who wins the most tickets gets to keep it.”

“Okay, I’ll take that bet,” Marinette grinned.

“As an additional challenge though!” he quickly interrupted. “A DDR contest to win additional bragging rights.”

“Well that’s a mistake. You’re going to lose that one. Or are you forgetting the last time the three of you came to my house?”

“Um, I’ve changed since then, Marinette . I have a dance machine in my room, for heaven’s sake.”

She leaned an elbow against the glass counter. “You make it sound as if that’s going to help you.”

“I’ve grown a lot since our last battle,” Adrien replied sagely. “I’ve improved. I’ve been practicing. Waiting .”

“Yeah, you’re still losing.”

“I’ll take that bet.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Too late.”

“Your funeral.”

Turns out, Adrien wasn’t as good at Dance Dance Revolution as he thought. Oh he broke his high score alright, and for a while the two of them were looking pretty good together. But once Marinette cranked up the difficulty he was a goner. Eventually, he had to stop in the middle of the song, lean back against the bars, and just watch her decimate him with the kind of accuracy that only someone like Ladybug could ever display. He didn’t even feel that bad when she grabbed all of her tickets and waved them in his face with a victorious little smile on her face. Instead he did a gracious bow, chivalrously admitted defeat, and smirked deviously when he jutted his chin toward the old-fashioned arcade games in the corner. “Pac Man. Centipede. Galaga. In that order. Let’s go.”

After an hour, Adrien decided that, no matter what happened between them, he and Marinette were definitely coming back here. She seemed really peeved off that he was beating her scores times three in all of the old arcade games tucked away in the corner. He insisted it was because he had the machines in his room and on the days when he was grounded and bored with watching television, he would play those games for hours at a time, but Marinette would hear none of it. Instead she swore that she would beat him at all of these machines one day and dragged them over to the Mecha Strike game where she knew they would rack up the most tickets.

He didn’t know why, but there was something really charming about seeing her run around the arcade, switching to different games, acting so determined, competitive, and passionate about the little wager Adrien presented her with. A really self indulgent part of him hoped that would be the case because it just made him want to laugh. He’d look at her leaning over a game, her tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth in concentration, and suddenly feel so elated that he didn’t know what else to do with all of the feelings. It got to a point where he sort of forgot he was supposed to be playing games and trying to beat Marinette’s count. Sometimes, when she was really absorbed, he’d just lean against the edge of the machine and watch her play, not seeing a reason to rip his eyes from the sight.

After two and a half hours, the two of them ran up to the counter and slammed their tangled piles of tickets atop the counter. Their eyes were both glued to the ticket counter that the employee was feeding their winnings into, and Marinette immediately jumped up into the air and screamed in victory when Adrien’s count came up 200 short of hers.

She reached up and poked him in the cheeks. “Bragging rights~!”

“Fine, fine,” he grinned. “You win. Bragging rights for the month.”

Marinette winked. “Thank you.”

He bit his lip and felt his face grow warm, but he ignored it in favor of turning back to the counter. “What’s our count?”

“130,000,” the employee responded. “Grab whatever you want.”

Adrien pointed to the Ladybug plush hanging just above their heads. “I believe you won that fair and square.”

Marinette smiled at him as she took the doll from the employee and hugged it to her chest. “Good game, sir,” she teased.

“Makes more sense for you to have it,” Adrien decided. “You scream Ladybug more than I do.”

She raised her brows at the comment, allowing Adrien to meet the stare, but she decided to skim over the comment. “You don’t seem too peeved off that you lost.”

“Why would I be?”

“Wouldn’t anyone?”

“I’m not much of a sore loser.”

“So why make a bet like that if you didn’t care about winning?”

Adrien looked down for a moment, drummed his fingers on the inside of his pocket, and took up her hand in his. “You really underestimate the honor of losing to a lovely lady such as yourself.” He winked before he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, holding her hand there until her face was so flushed it crawled all the way up to her ears.

It may have been a little heavy handed, something that he might have only tried if he were Chat Noir and knew that his theatrics would only be seen as that, but the moment seemed too right. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was acting opposed to himself. This was still him, despite how few opportunities he had to act like this in front of Marinette. He wanted to push things just a little bit, show Marinette the bits and pieces of himself shining through in new and exciting ways in the hopes that she would put two and two together into a gradual realization. He let her hand drop and bit on his lips, suddenly feeling some of her own embarrassment wash over him. Adrien watched as her eyes raked over him quickly, taking in all parts of him as if he had finally done something to make her reevaluate what was in front of her.

Marinette looked like she’d wanted to say something, had suddenly furrowed her brows and bit on the insides of her cheeks, pondering something that Adrien couldn’t guess. He wished he had the courage to just pull her into a quiet corner and just explain everything, but he knew she’d kill him for daring to tell her something to casually, no matter how desperately he wanted her to know. All he could do was stand there, watching the gears begin to creak and move in her head, until he stared at the clock on the far wall and jumped in shock. “Oh, crap. We’re gonna be late!”

“Late?” Marinette asked. She watched him as he stuffed his wallet back into his pocket and grabbed Marinette’s wrist, rushing her to the exit of the arcade. “Wait, we’re going somewhere else?”

“Yup!” Adrien laughed. “We’ve gotta jump on the metro now if we’re gonna catch it before it leaves.”

Marinette was sputtering behind him as they ran through the crowds outside. “Before what leaves?!”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“ Adrien!”

They only just managed to catch the train when it rolled into the station closest to the arcade, and Adrien spent most of the ride laughing through all of Marinette’s guesses for where he was taking her next, refuting one outlandish suggestion after another. It was rather funny because he knew how much both Ladybug and Marinette hated being left out of the loop and not having control of the situation. The only thing he could do was assure her that is was nothing bad, that she was definitely enjoy it, and that she’d just have to patient.

Adrien kept staring down at his watch while they rushed out the station and made their way to the part of the Seine that was right at the base of the Eiffel Tower. It was when they were heading closer to the bank and heading towards where the Bateaux Parisiens boats were docked that Marinette’s mouth fell open and she tapped on Adrien’s shoulder. “Are we going on the boat tours?!”

He turned over his shoulder excitedly and nodded. “Cool, huh?”

After they defeated Le Dessinateur, the topic of boat rides and dates came up during their next patrol. He was telling Ladybug in detail about the date that Le Dessinateur set up for Marinette, and of course it only made sense to him now why it seemed like he was telling her a story that she had heard already before. But either way, Chat Noir was going on and on about how much that akuma must have been in love with her to pull out such a romantic date like that. He’d never been on a boat tour himself, but he heard so many stories of tourists hailing them as romantic hot spots and couples constantly getting engaged on the dinner cruises. Ladybug merely shrugged her shoulders and said that she’d never been on one of the boat tours either, but that if she ever did decide to go on one, she’d be sure to tell him whether all the hype was accurate. What better time to find out then now?

They managed to make it just two minutes before the boat was supposed to leave. Adrien flashed their two tickets and sighed in relief when they were able to board the boat and lean against the rails on the side. It wasn’t long before the bridge to board the boat was removed, and the long ship started gliding along the water. Thankfully, it was still really early in the year and there weren’t too many tourists to crowd the boats, which meant that it was easy for the two of them to get some peace and quiet during the ride.

Marinette pouted as they both leaned their elbows on the rails and looked down at the water. “You didn’t tell me you were going to pay for this much.”

“I mean, it’s honestly no trouble,” Adrien promised. “I save up my allowances and never really get the chance to splurge. This is nothing, I promise.”

“Still,” Marinette sighed. “I don’t want to make you think like you have to cover everything. If you had told me, I would’ve paid for a ticket.”

The wind was picking up and blowing strands of hair out of Marinette’s bun, and he carefully reached up to tuck them back in. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I really just wanted to surprise you. I didn’t mean to be weird.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not weird, it’s just…” She pursed her lips and hummed. “I guess….I was sort of shocked you’d go through this much trouble. It’s a little surprising is all. A good surprise! I appreciate it, honest I do. But….well, anyway.”

“I get what you mean don’t worry,” Adrien replied. “I just wanted to show you a good time is all. I guess I didn’t really put any thought into all of this being overkill. I was just thinking of making it all fun, you know?”

Marinette nodded. “I understand. And this is fun! I’ve never been on one of these boat tours before. Just….one of those touristy things you never do because you live here and all that.”

Adrien bit his lip and hoped he wasn’t being too obvious. “I heard these things are supposed to be really romantic. You know, people get engaged here all the time and people have their anniversaries here too. I mean, I’ve never been on one of these sightseeing boats before, but I guess I get it.”

“That’s funny,” Marinette chuckled, staring at him from the corner of her eyes. “A good friend of mine said the same thing.”

He tried to make his smile not seem too wide. “Really? What did you tell him?”

Marinette turned his body to face Adrien’s. “That on the off chance I ever wound up on one I’d tell him if it was romantic or not.”

Adrien raised a brow and looked around him. “Well, this seems like as good a time as any.”

“This is true. Although….” She swallowed when he dared take a step closer to her. “I-I, uh….don’t really know what counts as romantic on one of these things. Especially since we know the city so well.”

“Well,” Adrien sighed. “I’ll admit. We’re delving out of my comfort zone. But if the lady wants a romantic boat ride, then the lady will certainly get one.”

Marinette giggled. “How chivalrous of you.”

He made a show of drumming his fingertips against his chin in thought, leaving Marinette a smiling mess beside him. “Got it! Releasing a thousand and one rose petals into the wind right at sunset, standing at the bow of the boat, and letting the smell of the breeze and roses sweep you away into a dashing evening of romance.”

Marinette nodded in approval. “Oh yes, that sounds wonderful. I assume you have the rose petals ready.”

Adrien scoffed. “Of course. They’re merely waiting for my cue.”

“And what else do you have planned?” Marinette teased.

He pointed to the water. “Three dolphins will come jumping right out of the water! They’ll make heart-shaped arcs of water and blow kisses before they dive back down.”

Marinette placed a hand against her heart. “ Dolphins! ” she gasped. “Surely you purchased them on your own?”

“Ah but of course,” Adrien said, turning his nose up. “Trained them myself.”

“And I suppose you have a singing troupe ready to go too.”

“Ah, I almost forgot about the singing troupe! But you’re right! They’re below deck waiting for the right signal.”

Marinette whistled. “My, my. This sounds mighty romantic. You truly are an expert.”

Adrien shrugged. “Just doing my best. But there’s more, you know.”

“Let me guess,” Marinette smirked. “A pair of violinists will come out from the crowd and start playing a song just for the two of us as we stare out at the river, sighing over the sights, and smiling for the future.”

Adrien dipped his head and was feeling his chest ache from all the chortling he was doing, but right when he was about to quip back with another response, he felt someone tap him on his shoulder. An old man with a violin in his hands kindly tipped his hat to Adrien and Marinette and gestured behind him to four other musicians who were leaning against the rails, smiling into their hands and waving at Adrien and Marinette. Adrien raised a brow and tentatively waved back as the older man spoke up. “Apologies, son,” he said. “A few of us couldn’t help but overhear. You wouldn’t mind terribly if we offered a little ambiance? It’d be our pleasure. We could use the practice.”

Adrien furrowed his brows and blinked. “U-Um….I don’t….I mean — ”

The man chuckled and leaned in close to Adrien. “Indulge us a little, eh? You two are a darling couple. Plus what better way to impress a sweet girl like that?”

There wasn’t any time for Adrien to even fashion an intelligible response before the man stepped back, lifted his instrument, and played a high, warbling note before his companions joined in and harmonized with the melody he carried. Two women behind him were still smiling up to their ears at the sight of the two embarrassed teens in front of them, and the old man sent one last wink at Adrien before he turned around to face the crowd that was beginning to form around them. It was a song that Adrien recognized, but couldn’t remember the words to, but it was a calm, light, slow number that warmed him down to his bones. He turned back to Marinette who was looking up at him in shock. She finally let the corner of her mouth quirk up as she moved close enough for the skirt of her dress to brush against his knees, keeping the doll she’d won earlier tucked carefully under her arm. “Did you plan that ?” she asked.

Adrien hesitated before sighing and holding his arms out helplessly. “Cost me a fortune.”

Marinette dipped her head and laughed behind her bangs. She surprised him by taking both his hands in both of hers, swinging them gently back and forth, and staring up at him shyly. “Thanks for this,” she told him. “This was really sweet of you. I’m having fun.”

He swore he could have melted on the spot right there and died happy because that was all he really wanted to hear. Adrien adjusted his grip and rubbed his thumbs on the backs of her knuckles. “You don’t know how much of a relief it is to hear you say that.”

“Why?”

“Are you kidding me?” Adrien said. “I was nervous as heck. I’ve been up for hours just thinking about this. I….well, I don’t go on dates often. Never really planned one before. I wanted to make sure it went well.”

“You shouldn’t worry so much,” Marinette assured him. “Honestly. I really really like the boat ride.”

Adrien grinned hopefully. “Romantic enough?”

“Jury’s still out, but I’m optimistic.”

“I have a feeling your friend will be happy to hear that.”

“Yeah,” Marinette said slowly. “I’m sure he would.”

The rest of the time on their boat was something Adrien could have plucked out of a picture book. They eventually started playing little spying games that lasted for ages and pointing out random passerby to see who could come up with the most elaborate story to fit the person. Eventually, Marinette was leaning her cheek against his shoulder, laughing through his dramatic stories of espionage and tumultuous romance based purely off of a simple flower shopkeeper. Adrien even convinced her into a long string of selfies with the buildings and river as the backdrop because they owed their friends and her parents pictures. Every now and again, the group of musicians would stop and start playing more songs during the ride, letting the music lilt gently in the background and make Adrien feel this strange lethargic sense of contentment that he supposed could only really come from staring out at a river, only an hour before sunset, listening to beautiful music, and letting a beautiful girl lean her head on his shoulder. It was strangely addicting, so much so that he wished rather belatedly that he’d bought off five more tickets so that they could just keep going up and down the river for hours, long after the sun went down, long after the rest of the passengers had left for their homes.

He initially had every intentions to take Marinette home once they reached the end of the route, but he realized that when they got off the boat a couple of hours later, they were right on the bank that he and Ladybug used to frequent a lot whenever they decided to skip rocks across the river. It was an intimate little pastime the two of them indulged in, a time where they screamed frustrations out at each other, rambled on and on about worries and fears until there was nothing left to say, leaving them in nothing but the sounds of stones skipping across the water and finally dipping down deep with a final thlunk. Adrien didn’t want to go home just yet, so he asked Marinette if she was a fan of skipping rocks, and was relieved when she answered yes.

They stopped by a park a couple of blocks away and walked along the path, trying to find flat stones that were good for skipping. All the while Adrien was making a show of jumping behind bushes and rolling under benches to try to find what he quoted as “the perfect skipping stones.” He left Marinette practically suffocating from hysterics as she held her Ladybug doll to her face and tried to muffle her laughter. He was sure they looked like a strange sight — two teenagers with literal armfuls of stones walking towards the river — but it seemed to Adrien at least that they were running off with their own little inside joke and it made him giddy that Marinette was willing to indulge him.

They stood at the very edge of the river where a few people were still sitting and dangling their legs over the water. The two of them left their things a few feet away from them right along the edge of the walkway as they piled their stones at their feet. Just like he figured, Marinette was much better at it than he was. He kept betting silly things like all the notes in his wallet, his entire collection of Japanese films, all the Gabriel suits in his closet, and a month of his servitude that he would be able to skip his rock farther than hers, but as long as it kept Marinette happy Adrien didn’t mind making himself look like a fool.

“You keep throwing the stones weird,” she finally told him, wiping away hysterical tears from her eyes. “Like you flick your wrist all strange.”

“Really?” Adrien pouted. “Thought for sure I was getting better….”

Marinette scratched her head. “No, I mean, it’s funny you….you throw it just like a friend of mine does. You do it at a weird angle so your stone just sinks the moment you throw it.”

“Huh,” Adrien thought, trying to keep a knowing smile off his face. “Common mistake I guess.”

“You would think,” Marinette snorted. She turned a stone in her hand and mimed a throw. “Hold it just like this. And don’t flick it so hard.”

Adrien sucked on his bottom lip and stared out at the river. He stared at Marinette’s hands one more time, waited until she nodded in approval at his hand positioning and tried his best to flick it just a little more gently than he had been doing before. He got excited when it skipped three times, but then it promptly sunk deep into the river and disappeared.

“Agh,” Adrien complained. “Well. One more than last time.”

Marinette nudged him with her elbow. “You’re kinda bad at this.”

“I’ll get better eventually,” he promised. “As often as I’m here doing this, I have to eventually get really good. That’s how practice works.”

Marinette cast out another stone, making Adrien whistle when it skipped six times. “Didn’t know you come here a lot.”

“I have a friend that’s really good at it,” Adrien explained. “She took me here one time when we were bored and I guess it’s just sort of become a habit between the two of us. It’s really fun at night. There’s usually no one around and we can be as loud as we want, say what what we want.”

Adrien eyed Marinette carefully when she answered him. “....sounds nice. I can definitely see why that’s relaxing.”

“It is!” Adrien agreed. “She was actually the one that got me into it. Wasn’t a huge fan of it at first.”

Marinette tapped her flat stone against the palm of her hand and glanced at him warily. “Why’s that?”

“I guess I just thought it was really boring when I first tried it,” he began to explain. “I’m always used to being busy and using my free time to do something productive like study and plan the rest of my week. So I guess doing something so aimless felt really silly at first, even if it was meant to be relaxing. But, the way she explained it to me made a lot of sense.”

She was turned completely towards him now, paying more attention to his story than the stones at her feet. “What was that?”

Adrien squinted at the river, threw another stone, and watched it skip four times. He pumped his fist and grinned. “I guess that….that it’s okay to take breaks and do something mindless once in awhile. Not everything has to have a use, a purpose, or an explanation. Sometimes things like….I dunno….like a DDR contest or skipping rocks at sunset only ever has to be that. Or sometimes you don’t have to think for hours about all the implications and consequences of asking someone out. Maybe you just do it because you want to and because it feels right. Simplicity can be its own kind of excitement you know?”

There was silence between the two of them after he finished, and Adrien was too scared to see the look on Marinette’s face. He could tell that she was frozen, her eyes still on him as he skipped more rocks by himself, but there was no way he was willing to look at her face and see her expression just yet. The air felt too tense and Adrien sort of wanted to apologize just to fill up the space. But Marinette beat him by clearing her throat, drumming her nails against the stone in her hands, and saying quietly, “....I told you that.”

Adrien tried to sound casual. “What?”

“Simplicity can be its own kind of excitement. It’s okay to do something mindless. Not everything has to have meaning,” Marinette repeated. “ I told you all that. Remember?”

Adrien clenched his teeth to keep himself from smiling, and inhaled deeply to try and sober up his expression. He finally turned his head to look at her, and she was staring up at him imploringly, almost as if she were begging him for an answer, as if that answer was more important than anything that had happened today. He shook his head, though, and said, “When?”

“A-A few weeks ago,” she began tentatively. “It was over lunch. You were complaining about your father cramming your schedule full again for the year. It was when we were reminding you to break your routine and take breaks from it for a while. And then I….” Marinette sighed out and frowned. “I told you all of that. Because I-I….I was worried about you. You remember that, don’t you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, right,” he finally decided. “I remember it now. That was the day I went to my father and lightened my load a little. Because you suggested it to me.”

Marinette nodded. “Exactly.”

“Sorry, I guess I remembered it wrong for a minute,” Adrien apologized. “It’s really easy to mix you and my other friend together in my head I guess. You both sound really alike.”

Marinette breathed in sharply, but said nothing in response. There was no way to know what was going on in her head, and Marinette didn’t seem like she wanted to share. Chat Noir always knew when Ladybug was pondering something serious when she stayed quiet for extremely long stretches of time, mouthing things to herself, and staying in her own head until she’d come to a decision or was sure about what she wanted to say. Adrien could tell Marinette was doing the same exact thing, scowling at herself and muttering very quiet things under her breath as she finally released the stone she’d been holding. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad sign — if it meant she was annoyed he’d forgotten, if she figured something out, if she finally knew, or if she was very close to knowing. There wasn’t any of the unbelievable and outlandish shock that Adrien had been expecting, and if anything this made him even more anxious. He didn’t know how he was supposed to act now, didn’t know where to push their conversation to save the mood of the day.

Adrien looked down and saw they only had a handful of stones left. “Want to finish throwing these and head home? It’s starting to get late.”

“O-Oh, yeah,” Marinette assured, still looking distracted. “I’ll text Maman that we’re on our way.”

The metro back to Marinette’s house was quiet. They caught two seats next to each other towards the back of the car, and the moment they sat down Marinette leaned her head on Adrien’s shoulder and dozed off for the entire ride. Adrien was on his phone, sorting through all of the photos they’d taken on the boat, reminding himself to text them to her when he had the chance. He stopped on his favorite — one where the lighting was just right, with Marinette’s arms wrapped around his waist, her cheek pressed against his — and made it his background.

Luckily, the station was only a couple of short blocks from the bakery. Marinette was clinging to his arm, leaving Adrien amused. “Tired?”

She hummed into the fabric of his shirt. “I usually nap on the weekends and catch up on sleep. I’m tired….”

“Don’t worry, I can see the the bakery right now. You can sleep until noon tomorrow just like you want.”

When they got closer to the door of the bakery — all the lights shut off for the evening — Marinette didn’t let go of his arm. Instead she turned around and pulled him with her until her back was pressed against the door and Adrien was standing incredibly closer and looking down at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Marinette said. “Just don’t want to say bye yet.”

Adrien bit his lip when her hands settled on the crooks of his elbows. He clenched his fingers before slowly moving his hands towards her hips, letting his hands grip the fabric of the dress. “Your parents are expecting you.”

“Just five minutes.”

He snorted and figured that he might as well follow her lead. Marinette’s hands were creeping up his arms, resting on his shoulders, before they wrapped gently around his neck. Adrien dared to take a step closer to her until their noses were only several centimeters apart. It felt like the right time to do something — to close the space or drag his hands elsewhere or move his gaze — but he had no idea what he should’ve been trying. Instead he swallowed audibly. “Are you alright, by the way? You were quiet on the way home.”

She nodded. “I’m fine. Just….thinking.”

“About what?”

“Lots of things.”

“Nothing bad I hope,” he muttered in the space between their lips.

“No,” Marinette whispered. “They’re confusing things, is all. I’m not sure what to do with it all.”

“Confusing?”

“Mmhm,” she hummed, feeling her fingers brush along the skin on the back of his neck. “You confuse me.”

Adrien moved his hands to curl around her waist. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know what you’re thinking. It feels like there’s something you want to say, but I’m not quite sure what it is. I only have guesses.”

A part of him really wanted to ask her what sort of guesses she had, and what sort of questions and confusions she was trying to answer, but he was far too wound up and nervous to dare ask the question outright. “I don’t know what I mean either,” he answered honestly. “I’m good with words, not with saying what I mean.”

Marinette smirked. “I had a feeling that was the case.”

“Why?”

“No reason. Just a feeling.”

Adrien suddenly felt his heart start to pound faster, either do to nerves, excitement, or their sheer proximity. “I guess I have to get better about that. I’m pretty sure you don’t want to end a date and leave the other person confused.”

“Everything was perfect, don’t worry,” she assured him. “I’m happy. It was a wonderful date. 10/10.”

“The raving review is appreciated.”

Marinette flicked him in the nose and left him beaming. She licked her lips for a moment, let her eyes dart to his mouth, and quickly pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

Adrien felt his cheek warm right where her lips used to be and took a few seconds to find his voice again. “It was my pleasure.”

When Marinette pulled away from the kiss, it left their mouths just a little bit closer. Adrien wasn’t sure what the decorum was about kisses on the first date, but they were already here, Marinette wasn’t moving away, and it would really be so simple to just lean in a touch and indulge in the small pleasure. He desperately wanted to do it. He could feel Marinette curling her fingers into the hair on the back of his neck, pulling herself up gently on her toes, pulling him in with a sort of urgency that he knew meant she wouldn’t mind if he did decide to do it. Adrien exhaled, and Marinette mimicked him, his warm breath furling across his skin. He was so close to leaning in and closing the distance, Marinette’s fingers already curling tighter into his hair out of anticipation, but a ringtone sounded loudly in the silence and shocked them apart.

Adrien felt like he’d suddenly been submerged in cold water as Marinette fiddled around in her purse and silenced her cell phone. She pursed her lips. “It’s Maman. I should probably go upstairs.”

“Y-Yeah,” Adrien said. “That sounds like a good idea.”

He took a reluctant four steps away from her and clapped his hands together. “Well. I guess, I’ll just head home then.”

“Oh wait,” Marinette said. “Share your location with me? So that I know you get home alright.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I know. But my parents will no doubt ask, and I’d rather show them proof.”

Adrien chuckled, pulled out his phone, and tapped around a bit until Marinette got a notification on her phone. “Alright, there you go. I’ll even text you when I get home, okay?”

“Okay.” She picked up her arcade prize from the ground and hugged it to her chest. “Good night, Adrien,” she told him. “Get home safe.”

Adrien grinned, and decided to go for one last Hail Mary as bent down into a gentlemanly bow. “Good night, my Lady.”

He didn’t wait around to see Marinette’s expression or to hear her response. He quickly turned around and made his way down the block towards his own house, refusing to speed up until he heard the sound of the bakery door shutting behind him in the distance.

[millicent231-watt]

(Tokyo Ghoul) Welcome Back

Anime / Crossover: Tokyo Ghoul

Songs: None

Request: None

Modern AU: No

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SLIGHT SPOILERS

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I scoff as I kick the body of another pathetic CCG investigator. "Tsuka-chan, let's go." I look over to Ayato before looking back at the body for a second and walking away with him. "We need to go see Uta about getting your mask." I nod and follow him all the way to HySy ArtMask Studio.

He knocks on the door a few times and a weird looking man answers. "Tsuka-chan's here for her mask." He nods and brings us inside. "Ah, right, right. It's just over here, let me grab it." He says before walking out back and leaving us in a room of masks. "He's a strange one, isn't he?" Ayato asks as I look at the masks closer. "Yeah, but he's got good craftsmanship." I say as pick up a mask that reminded me of my boyfriend back in the 11th ward. I met him back at Anteiku, but he's changed so much since he joined Aogiri. I only joined to be with him, but I want the old him back. I flinch in shock as Uta walks back out. "Here you go." I take the bronze mask from his hands gently and look at it carefully.

"I tried to match it with your outfit. The lower half comes down, so when you need to feed, you don't have to take off the whole mask." I smile slightly at him and bow. "Arigato Uta, I love it." I say before he bids us goodbye. "Why are you always so nice him? He's weird." I scowl at Ayato before karate chopping the top of his head. "He's an old friend Ayato, I'm allowed to be nice." We begin to run back to 11th ward.

"Get changed, we're gonna visit Cochlea." I nod my head and run to get my outfit. I quickly get changed and wait on the roof for Ayato and Kaneki. Eto was already there, swinging her legs over the edge of the building like a child. "Hm?" She hums as she turns her head back to me. "Oh, Tsuki-chan. Where are the other two?" I shrug my shoulders and stand next to her. "I like your new mask, it suits your outfit." I nod my head at her and thank her as the twilight ran over the city. "It's been a while since we've played together Tsuki-chan. Or would you prefer Shadow Assassin?" I shake my head as the wind blows through my black hair. "No, Tsuki-chan's fine for you guys, it's the CCG that call me The Shadow Assassin." I add before the door is heard opening behind us. "Ready?" Ayato asks and both Eto and I nod. "Good, let's get going. Maybe if we're lucky this can be done tonight."

At Cochlea

The red sea of capes run towards the end of the rooftop before jumping down, except Eto, Ayato, Kaneki and I. "You know what to do Tsuka-chan." I hear Ayato say. I nod, put on my mask and jump down as well. I feel the wind rushing past my body as I see the massacre of Cochlea security guards below. I land gently and walk between the corpses. What a mess. I think to myself as I walk up to the power panel where the red capes were flocking. I press a few buttons to open up a side door and get the prison cell doors inside to start opening. I signal the red capes inside and follow behind them.

Lots of the red capes died, but for every 1 they killed of ours, we killed 3 of theirs. "Honestly, why can't we just let the ghouls out peacefully? Oh, well." I say as I shrug off my own comment and find my way to the control centre. I gesture some red capes in and soon after they entered another massacre was made. Blood splattered against the windows and all over the walls as the door below began to open. "Split up into groups of 8. Try your best to clear out this place of CCG." I order and the all nod before running off and joining the mass of red capes outside. I kneel down to one of the guards and rip off his arm. I lower the bottom half of my mask and begin tearing the forearm to shreds. I sigh in relief as after weeks of just having coffee, I finally got to taste the delicious bloody flesh of a human. "Ah~" I shiver before I stand up and fix my mask. "Shadow, come on." I hear Kaneki say to me and I nod before following behind him.

Amon's POV -During the attack-

I was running down the halls of the Cochlea, trying to avoid the Aogiri with Akira Mado. "Shh, shh, hold on." I say to her as I held her back and peer through the crack of a door. "The Eyepatch and The Shadow?" I ask my self as I see them walk down the steps, following a small group of red capes. "The Shadow? As in The Shadow Assassin?" Akira asks and I nod. "I didn't know they associated with each other." She adds as we watch in suspense. "Neither did I. The record of The Shadow didn't say anything about The Eyepatch." I add before I see The Shadow stop and look up from the ground. "Back up. Back up!" I whisper to Akira as I duck down into the shadows, still keeping my eyes on the ghouls below. I gasp slightly and hold my breath as The Shadow looks over to our current position. I see The Eyepatch turning back to look at The Shadow Assassin before they look at him for a second, then look back up at us, then walk away. "Are they gone?" I hear Akira ask and I nod. "Good. They didn't see us did they?" She asks as we continue our way out of Cochlea. "I'm not sure, but I hope not."

Tsuka's POV

"Eyepatch." I whisper to Kaneki as I get closer to him. "Hm?" He hums before looking at me. "There's CCG watching us. I'll take care of them, can you tell Ayato for me?" He nods and I thank him before grabbing onto the railing of the stairs, vaulting myself over and jumping down. 2 investigators, huh?  Male and female. I remind myself as I quietly run up to where they were hiding. Where are they? I look around the last position I saw them in. I crouch down to where the male was and close my eyes. Left? No, right! I stand up and run right until somehow I had managed to do a full loop of the entire building. It'd been about an hour since I left the group, but I wasn't wrong. Someone was watching us, I just couldn't find them. I hear a scream fill the building and I immediately rush towards it, towards Kaneki's voice.

I gasp as I see that male detective that was watching us holding his Quinque to Kaneki's new mask. His kagune had been severed at the roots basically. "That's alright. A normal ghoul is all you are, right?" The investigator yells and I rush towards them. I let my Rinkaku out of my lower back. The seemingly pitch black wispy spears shoot out of my back and towards his Quinque. As it made contact with my Kagune, I push it out of the way and stop in front of Kaneki. "Investigator Amon!" I hear the female yell and I smirk under my mask. "Amon, huh?" I say, the mask distorting my real voice. "Shadow..." I hear Kaneki whimper behind me as I protect him with my Kagune. "We finally meet Shadow Assassin." Amon says as he begins walking over to his Quinque. I quickly launch my Kagune over to it and block it from him. "I only want to talk, I'm not here to fight with you Amon. I'll let you pick it up if you promise not to use it." I say. "Fine." I move my Kagune back and wait for his return.

"You really are interesting, but you invest trust in people too easily." He says as he swings the Quinque towards me. I quickly flip backwards, grabbing Kaneki on the way and dropping him off near the wall. "Wait here." I say to him before running around Amon playfully. "You can't outrun me forever." He says before quickly changing direction and swinging his Quinque at me again. I smirk and fall into the shadows, letting the Quinque slice through my non-existent body. "Nice try, but think about the name before swinging." I warn before swinging one of my Rinkaku's towards him, sending him flying sideways. "I told you, I just want to talk. You wanted to know why Eyepatch didn't kill you back then didn't you?" I ask and he flinches. "I can tell you why." I offer my hand to him after pushing his Quinque away. He hits my hand away and tries to crawl towards his weapon. I sigh and hold him down with my Kagune. "Listen." I command as I stare at him. "We are half-breeds." I tell him, but he just raises his eyebrow. "We both had an accident with another ghoul a while back, but when we got the surgery they replaced our injured organs with the ghouls. They didn't know it was a ghoul and basically fused us together."

I watch his eye grow wide as I let him go. "We are humane and friendly. Granted there are ghouls like The Binge Eater, who know and want nothing but to eat and torture humans, but there are also kind-hearted ghouls, like Eyepatch and I. We are driven to violence when people like yourself mistake our intentions and try to kill us for, in our eyes, no reason." I turn around to the door and wave them over. "These two are the same, half-breeds. You know them, don't you Amon?" I ask as the black and white twins walk out from the darkness. "Kurona? Nashiro?" Amon asks as Kurona carries her injured sister. "They were your students once weren't they?" I ask and he nods as I turn to Kurona. "Place her down, she needs to rest." Kurona nods and places Nashiro on the ground in front of her. I place my hand on Nashiro's arm and look at Amon. "We didn't choose this life, but now we're being punished for it. How would you like it if one day you were half ghoul? You know what would happen if you told your loved ones? They'd hand you over to the CCG and they'd keep you prisoner. That or your family would kick you out of the house, cut ties with you and eventually you'd be killed by CCG." I say as I let go of Nashiro's arm.

I walk over to Kaneki and grab his arm to support him. "Eyepatch has got it worse than all of us. He was tortured by another ghoul, who put a centipede in his ear. He's slowly losing his grip on reality and his sanity." I say as I walk him over to the twins, letting him sit as we look at Amon. "So tell me, Amon, what are you going to do now that you know our story? Kill us? We're just ghouls after all, or are you going to consider the fact that not every ghoul is crazy and demented like The Binge Eater? Amidst this world, we are broken, yet you laugh, blind to everything" I ask and I see him swallow a large lump in his throat before looking over to the left quickly. I look over and see his partner injured and sitting on the ground. I walk over to her and extend my arm. "Who did that to you?" I ask and she scowls at me. "Why do you want to know?" She barks. "Because they shouldn't have done that and they are going to get what they deserve." I explain and she cautiously grabs my hand. "Here you go." I say as I place her down next to Amon. "Can I trust you?" She asks and I nod my head. "The question is; can I trust you?" I ask before she looks to Amon. "You can trust us." I nod my head.

"Remember, if we are hit with violence, we don't have any other choice but to fight back. I hope you don't send CCG to find us." I say as I help Kaneki up and Kurona picks up Nashiro. "See you two around." I say as we leave the building. "You two heard back to Aogiri, if anyone asks about Kaneki and I...make something up. We aren't staying at Aogiri any longer." I inform them and they nod. "Hope to see you two again someday." I say as the walk off. "Ts...Tsuka-chan..." I lean my head down to Kaneki and ask what was wrong. "I don't want to eat anymore." I smile and begin walking down the street. "Let's go back home to Anteiku." I say and I see a hint of a smile on his face. "It's been a while since I've seen that." I say before picking him up onto my back and running back home.

Time Skip To Anteiku

I place Kaneki down on the steps and against the wall as I regain my breath. I walk up to the door and press the bell a few times before I hear a thumping of slippers on cold wood. "I'm sorry but we're clo- W...What do you want? Who are you?" I hear Touka ask and I chuckle before helping Kaneki up. "Ohayou, Touka-chan." I say as I remove my mask and smile at her warmly. "Ts....Ts...Tsuka? Kaneki-kun?" She asks and I nod before she brings us inside. "W...wait here!" She says and runs upstairs. "Kaneki....we're home." I say to him as I kiss his forehead. "Good." I turn and face the rest of the Anteiku staff smiling at me.

"Welcome back."