#but that’s a can of worms i won’t unlock

[vogelmeister]

i know im gonna get hate but i think my main issue with sex education s4 was cavendish itself and i partially think its because moordale secondary felt more like an Actual High School

[its-your-mind]

Jon Chester trying to communicate and/or comfort with statements is the cutest and funniest and most in-character shit.

Sam just joined a possibly-evil organization and seems way too interested in gaining knowledge from the stories? Has a history with the Magnus Institute? Well fuck I can’t let him end up back there.

Canaries should stay above ground.

Colin keeps looking too hard into what he shouldn’t, but he doesn’t know enough to stay safe. I have to warm him.

Voyeur needs to be seen to be believed. Scariest movie I have ever seen.

(Brief interlude when Jon finds out that Gerry is alive and has a permanent address which is a big enough ??? and feeling of relief and hope to risk a single email with an address so Sam can go see for him if it really is Gerry, if he’s really alive and if he’s okay (and then he is he’s happy and safe and he paints and goes to art shows and he calls Gertrude GeeGee). Bit of a shame about the name in the email address, though. Who knows, maybe that woman will stop calling him fucking Chester…)

Ahem.

Anyway, Sam won’t let the whole “Magnus Institute” thing go, and now Celia is here? Working here? Recognizing his voice? (Martin had to remind him who Celia was — Jon feels that his lack of remembrance is justified, in this case. Those tunnels blocked off his connection to the Eye! Remember what happened with the camera at Salesa’s? He forgot everything that happened there! Frankly, he’s impressed he even managed to remember meeting Melanie and Georgie down there, let alone the names of their awful annoying cult members. (Jon, be nice. It was the apocalypse). Well, I didn’t see you cozying up with that poet, whatever his name was— (*with sudden disgust* Arun.) *trying to keep a straight face* ah. yes, him.) What is Jon supposed to do about this? Well. Fine. If Sam intends to poke around, Jon can at least make the dangers present there clear.

Statement and Research assessment for artefact CD137. Magnus Institute. … [Transcription ends due to interruption. Statement giver declared dead by paramedics at scene.]

So. They went to the Institute. He knows about all of it, there was a tape recorder there. They were… in the Archives. In the assistants’ area where Tim used to throw the caps of his glitter pens to see how many he could get caught in Sasha’s hair before she noticed. Looking at the decrepit remains of the filing shelves he had been so fucking stressed about organizing. In his office.

Worms tracks on the ground. All paperwork removed or destroyed. And when Sam steps wrong, the tunnels. Oh, Christ. The tunnels. He drops a key down into them as he falls. Alice catches him. They leave. Some…thing takes the key Sam dropped. Unlocks the trapdoor, the one Leitner and Gertrude used to get in and out of the Archives. Here in Manchester, maybe the only way out of the underground passages. The trapdoor opens. Something pulls itself out.

~~~

And now, Alice has been being stalked by drowned corpses. Okay, sure. Yeah, shit uhhh… okay here’s one. Here, look, same kinda thing happened here. That tattoo artist shows up again too! Gotta keep track of reoccurrences. Learn as much as you can — the tip-off about the fire extinguishers saved Jon, Tim, and Martin in the archives. (And Sasha, before that… thing lured her into Artifact Storage.)

It belongs to the deep. I’m going to go get it and I’m going to find it and if they try and stop me I swear the ocean will claim us all. I can taste the salt and spray. It’s waiting in the water.

And now back to Sam. Back to warnings. It’s not just artifacts. The Institute deals with dangerous people, too.

This room, it’s a mess. Printouts, delivery notes, a bunch of rejection letters from some institute he pinned to the wall with a kitchen knife. And it's hot in here, dad. Too hot. Oh god. I can feel it. My throat is swelling. And it itches. I can still hear all the snakes brushing up against the door and... in the walls, I think. Christ, they’re in the walls...

Alice got attacked. He was there, he managed to get a tape on the scene, he heard it all. It was one of the drowned things.

Ink5oul knows something about them. What the hell, right? Michael gave Sasha the tip about the fire extinguishers. Let’s mine another colorful creep for information. Ink5oul dug one of these things up for some reason. Hold on, hold on, he just saw something about them, something about getting some kid to follow them to a graveyard…

We head on through the graves and then they point to one of ‘em and just give me a look. I was no cap shook and then they just said “dig”. I laughed, ‘cause, like, the ‘hell? But they were serious.

And at the same time, Celia keeps waking up on the ground, closer and closer to Oxford each time, like there’s something gently tugging her back towards the world she left. She doesn’t know how to stop it. Jon knows how that feels, the feeling like your own body is just a puppet tangled in invisible strings, at risk of starting a dance you don’t know, to music you can’t hear, at any moment, without any warning.

There isn’t anything that he can really do to help her. But he found it comforting to hear what happened to Gertrude.

I’ve lived Darien’s life for four years now. It wasn’t as hard as you’d think, turns out your world and mine are pretty similar.

CELIA (to computer): Thanks, I guess. Not exactly the same is it?

No. No, it’s not. He knows that there isn’t really any comfort to be found in knowledge when all you learn only points you more and more towards the conclusion that you are alone, and helpless, and powerless against the forces that are dead-set on fucking up your life.

[arvandus]

If you don't mine writing Dabi with a S/O that's a trans man and on their period.

Oh anon, I'm so sorry it took me so long to finally write this. It took some time for me to build the confidence, as I am not trans. However, I hope that I was able to empathize and understand in a way that resonates for you. Hopefully you're still around to be able to read this and I hope it is to your liking!

Between a Rock and a Hard Place (Dabi x trans male Reader)

CW: A bit of angst; hurt/comfort; established relationship; Dabi learning to be soft.

WC: 1,704

Nothing forced you into the bone-aching, skin-itching discomfort of gender dysphoria like getting your period.

It didn’t matter how you dressed, or the chest binders that you wore, or the name that you picked for yourself that resonated within your soul in a way your dead name never did.  Each month, the flawed imperfection of nature reminded you exactly how ill-suited your body was to your spirit.

You did your best to ignore it, to handle what needed to be handled with barely a glance.  But no amount of pain relievers could rid you of it entirely, the pain sometimes so severe that it felt like divine punishment.

This was how Dabi found you. 

He’d snuck through your window – the one you kept unlocked just for him – to find you curled up and miserable beneath your blankets as you lay on your couch, the pale blue light of the TV illuminating your face. You barely looked at him when he entered, and that alone was enough to set off the warning bells in his mind.  Usually, you were happy to see him. Usually, you were scolding him about his unusual entry, even as a grin tugged at your lips and your hands pulled him close by his coat collar.

But not this time.

This time, you were anything but welcoming.

“Go away,” was all you muttered, you voice muffled beneath your blankets.

You didn’t really want him to go, but you also didn’t feel like yourself in this very moment.  You didn’t want to be perceived, and you most definitely didn’t want to be touched.

And Dabi always loved touching.

Lots and lots of touching.

Dabi didn’t go. Instead, he stared down at you with sharp, blue eyes, his hands buried in his pockets.  He stayed silent, brooding almost, as he walked past you and into your kitchen.  You sighed heavily as you heard the fridge open, heard the pop of a beer can being opened.

When he returned, he didn’t try to worm his way close to you, didn’t invade your personal space like he usually enjoyed doing.  Instead, he sat on the arm of the couch and stared at the show you were watching.

Silence hovered between you, and the longer he lingered, the guiltier you felt.  He came here for you, to find comfort in you.  You were his safe place, his home.  Even though he never said it, you knew it, could feel it each time in the way that he kissed you, held you...

But it felt like that person wasn’t here right now.  That version of you that he found solace in wasn’t home, instead replaced by someone broken and confused.

Tears started to sting the corners of your eyes, and close behind came the tingling sensation of nasal congestion, the harbingers of open crying.  You sniffed, wiped at your eyes before the tears could fall, hoping to keep the actions subtle.

But Dabi was far too perceptive for that.

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

“Nothing,” you lied.  “I just don’t feel good.”

“You sick?”

“...yeah.”

“Move over.”

You curled your legs tighter against yourself, allowing him room at your feet.  He sat next to you and placed his hand over your covered calf.  You recoiled from his touch, afraid of what it meant, of what it could possibly lead to. Dabi stared at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pulled into a frown.

“You mad at me or something?”

“No.”

That much was the truth, at least, and it felt good to be able to say something that felt honest for once.

“Then why won’t you let me touch you?”

His question made you feel cornered, trapped.  He didn’t believe you.  Why should he, you realized.  It wasn’t as if you’d made him feel welcome since the moment he stepped foot into your apartment.

“Because I don’t want to be touched,” you replied.

Dabi didn’t understand, and you could see the confusion and frustration written in the angles of his mouth, in the tight pull of his staples.

“Why--”

You snapped.  “Because I can’t fuck you tonight, okay??”

Dabi froze, his blue eyes wide, mouth slightly parted.  You froze too, your breath caught in your throat, tears burning at your eyes and you hoped they would blind you, keep you from seeing how much you hurt him.

You expected him to snap at you, to get pissed.  You weren’t sure why you expected that... it wasn’t as though the two of you ever fought.  Oddly enough, your relationship with Dabi was rather...mellow.  Maybe it was because both of you had seen enough of what unhealthy relationships were to know what to avoid.

But he didn’t get mad.  Instead, his expression gentled.  Not into something entirely soft, of course... Dabi wasn’t a soft person. But it calmed into neutrality, and he stared at you for the first time that night as if he saw you... truly saw you.

“It’s that time, isn’t it?” he finally asked.

You were surprised he figured it out so quickly.  After all, he’d never been around you before when it was your time of the month.  It was a combination of circumstance and carefully delivered text messages that managed to keep him away from you when you were struggling the most.  The fear of his reputation as a wanted criminal leading a trail of breadcrumbs to your doorstep made his visits woefully infrequent.  And the other times, times when you’d planned to meet up, were occasionally canceled with excuses on your part.  The need to work late, stuck in a social engagement, having the flu, etc.

Your tears spilled over finally, and you nodded, half-covering yourself against his piercing gaze. You stared at the TV in an attempt to put distance between yourself and your emotions.

Dabi let out a sigh and took a sip of his beer as he stared at the TV.  “Well that explains a lot...” he muttered.

And you knew in that moment that your excuses would never work again.  It left a strange vulnerability within you that you weren’t prepared for, but were forced to accept just the same.

You waited to see if he would do anything.  Get up to leave or get mad at you.  But he didn’t.  Instead he sat there, waiting.

Waiting for you.

“Sorry,” you finally whispered.  “I should have told you.”

“’S fine,” he replied. He finished his beer and set it on the coffee table in front of him. “it’s not a big deal, y’know.”

“Yeah, it is,” you muttered.

Dabi gave you a look of reproach, as if you offended him.

“Trust me,” he said, “it’s not.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you replied. “What I mean is that it’s a big deal to me.”

You forced yourself to sit up with a wince, the blankets still wrapped around you and covering your head as you sat cross-legged next to him. You were close enough now for your shoulder to touch his and your knee to rest over his thigh, and you took comfort in his warmth, in the firmness of his body. It was grounding in a way.

“I hate feeling like this,” you muttered.  “Like I’m stuck in a body that isn’t mine. I wish I could rip it out of me, like a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit.”

You felt Dabi’s arm drape over your shoulder, and this time you didn’t recoil. Instead, you leaned into it, allowing your weight to rest against his side.  You inhaled the scent of him, rich and comforting.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice reverberating where his chin rested against your head.

“Yeah.”

“Did you take anything for it?”

“Yeah, but it didn’t work. I still feel like my insides are being scraped out with a knife.”

Dabi let a long breath out of his nose.

“Open up your blanket,” he said.

Your body stiffened again, and he noticed.

“Relax, I’m not gonna try anything.”

You unfurled from your cocoon and Dabi took the blanket.

“Lay down,” he ordered.

You did, resting your head in his lap. He put the blanket back over you, and tucked his arm beneath it until it was wrapped around your torso, his palm and fingers resting against the cotton of your shirt over your belly.  A moment later, a soothing warmth began to emanate from his touch.  Your heart fluttered in your chest and tears welled in your eyes.

“Dabi....” you started.

“Shut up and lemme take care of you,” he muttered.

So you did, falling into silence as you both continued to watch TV.  It wasn’t long before you felt his other hand on your head, his rough, calloused fingers gently petting you along your hairline and along the curve of your ears. 

Your breath caught in your throat at his gentle care.  He’d never done this before.  To be quite honest, you weren’t entirely sure he was capable of such affection.  It wasn’t that he didn’t care about you, but his way of expressing his feelings was either more heated and needy, or more... clumsy, all awkward pats and even more awkward words.

But now, right now, he was learning, adapting.  And you couldn’t deny that you needed it.  You needed this.  You needed to be touched, not out of desire, but out of love.  To be a person first and foremost, all other aspects of yourself set aside because they were secondary to what truly made you ‘you.’  One minute became two, two became three.  As the minutes stretched, your body began to relax.

Finally, Dabi spoke, his voice deep and laced with a tangled web of hurt and something akin to love.  “I don’t come here just for the sex, you know...” he muttered.  “I come here because it’s the one place where I feel happy.”

Guilt dug a hole deep into your heart.  You were supposed to be his rock, his safe space, and yet... here you were, neither of those things.

Tears stung your eyes again as your vision blurred.

“Even now?” you asked.

Dabi gave a dry huff. “Yeah, dumbass. Even now.”

And for the first time, you realized Dabi could be your rock too.

[mikodrawnnarratives]

TW BLOOD

(bit ltr on)

TW REFERENCED CHARACTER DEATH

@naffeclipse

Part 1 | Part 2 | This is Part 3 | Extra

Gonna add some after comic shenanigans because I have thought of a LOT

It'll be linked as Extra

likely will be comprised of memes with maybe some serious

Long post under the cut!

And rambling right after like. a lot. jkfdjklsd

It’S DONE

Well besides the extras and memes I’ll include in another part that. I don’t know when I’ll finish. But stay tuned I’m gonna go ham. I can't wait to share the memes especially loll

Fair warning my rambling here gets a little all over the place so if I repeat myself. Sorry lol. 

If I knew how to include a second read more I would

anyway , I think I've made this comic lighter towards the end of this comic (both on purpose with the backgrounds and story lol) but this ending I hope is a combination of bittersweet and hopeful. Y/n gets to have a new family and connection to humanity that I think would be beneficial. 

How they’d take finding out Y/n is a VAMPIRE is it’s own can of worms that you can decide for yourself how would go down. Best outcome is that Y/n continues to watch over the generations influenced by Vanessa and her family during their immortality. 

Gregory and Cassie still haven’t been introduced in the Naff’s Cryptid Sightings universe by the time I post this, so if/when they are their characterization most likely will be different. And ggy likely won’t be placed in the au. Which is completely understandable! Tho an alternative path following canon fnaf more with 3 star fam, ggy n such is a concept I LOVE in the Cryptid Sightings world! I’ll go into it more ltr

Greg and Cass already have cryptid parents but now they get Uncle Eclipse and Uncle/Aunt/Pibling/Auncle/Etc Y/n. And Y/n gets to have one more purpose in protecting these ppl they will grow to care a lot about that knew Vanessa when Y/n couldn’t connect with her. Lots of sharing stories abt Vanessa occurs.

I’ll joke abt this in the extras & memes part but I think It would be so funny if Y/n can one moment be depressed and then Eclipse mentions Cass & Greg and they’re like “RIGHT I NEED TO PLAN HOW IM GONNA SPOIL THEM FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY” or “I LOST TO GREGORY LAST TIME IT WON’T HAPPEN AGAIN” or “I NEED TO CHECK UP ON THEM AND MAKE SURE THEY’RE ACTUALLY RESTING AFTER THEY FOUGHT THAT CRYPTID”

Eclipse is simultaneously grateful they have a new source of motivation, they haven’t seen you like this in a while, and he doesn’t dislike Gregory or Cassie. BUT since Cassie and Gregory are still Cryptid Hunters, it isn’t IDEAL lmao

On to elaborating on the comic: I love 3 star fam (by extension cassie) and Vanessa had growth offscreen so now her dying wish to y/n is like:

Nessie: hey. Make sure my kids (that aren't kids anymore) don't die ok cool cool

Sure Greg and Cass have Freddy and Roxy but between:

Demonic cryptids that have no experience being a human NOR a cryptid hunter human at that 

Vs

Friend that might just be there still since if these cryptids could have humanity there's a chance my friend sending me memes that are so in character with their personality is ALSO still human despite being vampire and maybe ness & them could reconcile and Greg and Cass could finally meet the only person ness would have considered family and-

Nessie never would have considered y/n still having their humanity if it weren't for Freddy and by extension Roxy 

And btw Ness would not have given her phone to y/n if she wasn't sure that y/n wouldn't hurt Greg and Cass.

She. Didn't expect y/n to go the extra mile and meet them in person. The phone would give y/n their contact information and all the photos of memories they missed out on

Y/n cries when they unlock ness's phone and Nessie still hadn't changed her password

The video she made that y/n sees at the end is when she was first entertaining the idea of y/n possibly still having their humanity, but still wasn’t sure. It was a video that she only ever planned on y/n seeing if she either died and/or she was sure y/n was still human in some regard. She wanted to leave y/n with something in that scenario.

Vanessa here meeting Vanessa in Cryptid Sightings and Lost episode canon would certainly be something. Vanessas from canon Cryptid Sightings would just. Not know how Vanessa got over it and neither does Ness here know

Also, there are some details for this canon divergence au that are completely settled to me and other details I don't have a solid idea for. Like, I'm not SET on how Nessie and Greg would meet, ness and Cass, if it would be at the same time, who would be doing the glitchtrapping.  Prob becuz some of those are still unclear in canon canon FNAF and others I'm just indecisive

I'll leave it a little loose, up in the air

Also the possession being done by the same cryptid wouldn’t be possible with Cryptid sighting’s universe rules so. I’m not gonna bother figuring out those details for this comic. 

But I do love the idea of Nessie growing closer to Greg and Cass and at least Ness and Greg sharing a bond over dealing with Glitchtrap

Speaking of glitchtrapped GGY in cryptid au-

The wizards FAVORITE now being in same universe as demonic cryptids that would absolutely want to slaughter Glitchtrap for possessing a KID? Making him kill multiple people, including a kid his age? Tasty. Scrumptious. I want to make a separate post just thinking Abt how canon crew for cryptid sightings might react to GGY, especially Cryptid Sun & Moon/Eclipse. I'll save most of that rambling for that potential post since there's so much angst potential. 

While im here, I’ll ask. Naff, how would Eclipse react to a child, possessed by a demonic cryptid, having killed other children? Or. Is that a spoiler since these characters could be introduced in a reunion work and whether Cassie gets possessed to mirror canon fnaf is still up in the air? 👀

@/puhpandas can be blamed for my brain rot of the GGY story and dr rabbit stuffs and the potential it could bring.

Tho I don't expect to see GGY in any continuations of cryptid sightings lol I don't know how that would work when cryptid sightings already has laid down rules for possession in that universe and Glitchtrap is already gone. I'll happily see what Gregory and Freddy are like when they (hopefully) appear in future continuations of cryptid sightings

But since this is canon divergence I can indulge in three star fam real quick

To follow canon canon FNAF (or at least the fanon built off of the scrapped security breach canon as well as what stayed in sb), Vanessa would be saved by Gregory and Freddy, I'm undecided if Cassie would join in sooner or later. Nessie would regardless have to stomach being around kids that remind her of her trauma since she can't just fully IGNORE them. Gregory would have no one since I love the angst of the theory he killed his loving family as GGY 

So. Nessie would probably know that and it would make the situation hard.

Vanessa would grow a bond with Gregory and Freddy at some point, Gregory has a head start  due to. Y'know. Glitchtrap. Hard to not have some sort of connection to the kid that went through what you did too.

Anyway, Vanessa here would be saved by Gregory and Freddy to match up with canon. Or at least, the fanon I subscribe to for security breach since canon was lack luster and scrapped all the good ideas for Vanessa last minute.

Nessie and Gregory would have the shared experience of dealing with Glitchtrap trauma and Cassie gets roped, just like canon, with the whole Mimic situation. Then Nessie has two kids that she can't fully ignore but also can't stomach COMPLETELY being there for. Fun.

But since I adore 3 star fam too much, Vanessa is able to grow attached to Gregory like a big sister eventually (i adore big sis nessie dkljssfkld look at @/boringa55binch 's stuff you'll get ITTT)

When I'd imagine Cassie would be introduced, I bet Nessie would have a harder time with her around since what we've seen of Cassie in canon is only of her getting fooled. I bet Nessie would have a harder time around her for that reason.

But it's not like she COULD leave them completely alone since she's the one with the most cryptid hunting experience. And if these kids are SO INSISTENT about getting into trouble, fine. She owes them after all

I've been undecided if Cassie would be apart of the gang when Nessie is saved so that's up in the air for what ppls like most

Time skip is about 20-30 years ltr I've determined so, Ness did die when she was relatively young. (The circumstances of how she died are a plot device yes i will admit shush it isn’t terribly important sorry jklfdsjksfd)

I'm not the greatest at drawing aged characters so there you have it, Cassie and Gregory are in their late twenties early thirties.

Nessie knows it is a gamble to ask Y/n this favor. But, she's a worried big sis, being around Roxy and Freddy I bet would have softened her heart to the general idea of cryptids not being bad, and y/n doesn't seem to be bad atm. It could be a ghost that'll haunt watch over them, or Nessie's best friend can continue to be long distance buds with Nessie's new family.

And if Y/n was truly gone and all that remained was the vampire tendencies, by this point she has trust Gregory, Cassie, Freddy, and Roxy can keep each other safe. If it was truly a mistake to give y/n her trust.

So, that's why y/n hypes themself up and visits the graveyard when Gregory is there. And it did take a lot out of them but y'know I like the idea of y/n getting close with the gang.

It does make the next cryptid reunion a little weird.

Y/n & Eclipse: YOU DIDN'T MENTION VANESSA WAS A PART OF THE CREW NOW??

Freddy & Roxy: YOU NEVER TOLD US ABOUT VANESSA

Like, imagine both describing Vanessa in previous reunions, and NOW they're finding out it was the same person.

Vampire reveal set aside for later, this is y/n's newest reason to LIVE (mentioned earlier im gonna indulge on details down here)

They can't die yet! They still have memes to send to these kids! Jokes to tell! Series to make them binge with Y/n over a call! This is the gosh darn happiest Eclipse has seen them in decades!!

Flipping between seeing Gregory and Cassie as their nephew and niece and competing with Freddy and Roxy over the title of parent. Regardless of age. (they joke but Y/n never actually competes for the title, they are much too anxious of doing something wrong. Plus, Roxy and Freddy would be pretty tough to beat)

I also think it would be hilarious if Y/n sent out Eclipse with a chancla when Gregory does a Human Hero Complex goof up that painfully reminds y/n of their Human Hero Complex goof ups. He isn't allowed to make the same mistakes without consequence. And y/n WILL stay back in the bushes with goggles to SEE IT HAPPEN. Eclipse ain't worried abt y/n's mental state when they're too invested with their Nephew and Niece.

Gregory: We are adults.

Y/n: Yeah but you're also stupid humans who don't know when to quit.

Eclipse does get a chuckle they're now complaining so much abt human's having these stupid hero/martyr complexes when they were a human not so long ago themself lol

and

didn't mention before but

Y/n and Vanessa compared to Cassie and Gregory parallels that would could be explored.

ANYWAY (get an “anyway” tracker for this post 💀)

Cryptid Sightings doesn't have Cassie or Gregory in their cast of characters yet so (i think I mentioned this earlier but still), this could age. As of writing this, no reunion fic has been published. Might make a note of that if I release this after the fact. But still. Indulge with me in the hyjinks. I haven’t even begun on Freddy being a dad to y/n and possible Roxy dynamic with y/n lolll.

This au of an au of an au still has lots of angst to be explored like. Oh yeah, Gregory was controlled by Glitchtrap too and has a fuck ton of ptsd SINCE HE WAS TWELVE

Fun discussion for later at thanksgiving over zoom. One that Greg is just like: Can we get back to video games pls. now.

The bombshell that will be Y/n revealed to be a Vampire is still up in the air like I said earlier. But, y'know, it might go better this time.

Y/n hopes for that. Hopes. Funny, you haven't smiled this much in a while.

Vanessa's death hurts. Both of them were too young for their fates. It hurt especially when they were saying goodbye for the very last time. Nessie's death was coming and Y/n knew that, but at the same time. Y/n can focus on caring about people Nessie cared about. People Nessie trusted them to care for.

I like the idea of Y/n continuing to watch over and keep in contact with the people Nessie has impacted in some way. Nessie to Gregory and Cassie to whoever they inspire and have become their successors. And they got so much more they are looking forward to now. Knowing humans and sticking around them even digitally has its risks but I think it could be pretty grounding. They have even more dates to look forward to aside from halloween. Which, will be fun to celebrate with Gregory and Cassie fam.

They can't wait to do some more living.

[indieyuugure]

Indie, does this mean that...

CASEY JUNOIR UNLOCKED HIS NINPO?!

IT DOES!!

Boy is just as much part of the Hamato Family as April, and while yes it’s in an alternate timeline, I think it’s more of the familial bond that is the deciding factor here.

And, not to open a can of worms, but depending on how you’d like to interpret me using The Cass Apocalyptic Series as the canon backstory of Casey, and whether or not you think only Yokai are capable of using mystic powers in Rise, you could infer this as a reference to a certain thing that’s revealed in the Cass Apocalyptic Series. (I won’t spoil it for those of you who haven’t read it, but seriously wth are you doing go read if you haven’t)

Casey’s power up is speed up. He’s able to effortlessly move at incredible speeds and is able to perceive things at a slower rate (I think they call it “bullet time”). Very similar to Leo’s power but he can’t teleport.

Good question! :]

[aiura-stan]

Here we go, the first proper chapter of the Saiki K manga, 1-1!

Manga Saiki my beloved. How I missed you. I won’t comment on every single panel because I don’t want to spend —that— long talking about trivial things in this manga. But I’ll do my best to be annoyingly thorough in this re-read. Since I figure it will probably be my last proper re-read from end to end, sequentially. (Because quite frankly this manga is long. And I have other things to do. Hopefully.)

I’m not sure “lax” is the word I would use here? But I don’t like the anime’s use of “airheaded” much either, so?? “Considerably low key” maybe? In any case, the next panel sums it up “They both were the type not to think that deeply about things.” Let’s see… it says かなり緩かった. That seems to be about right, translation wise.

incheresting.

Also, it implies hypothetical strict parents of psychics exist, which… ironically enough, simply doesn’t exist in the Saikiverse. Come on Asou sensei. Give us an official continuation so we can meet some new psychic kid who meets this requirement of having grown up with strict parents.

I love how the very first page shows Saiki committing some selfless act with his powers. And yet he still gives us the spiel about how much psychic powers suck with his signature chronic >:(. Yes; Saiki has been a tsundere since the very beginning.

Saiki’s tsundere-ism aside, I have always liked how Asou sensei explains how psychic powers might be a significant drawback as much as a strength. The metaphor of a domestic dog who is fed and therefore doesn’t have the skill to hunt for itself, and the spoiled child who is given everything and thus robbed of agency, are both particularly good ones. (The curry and spoons one just makes me think of Mob psycho. Do you think One sensei read Saiki k???)

Saiki just lists all of his powers here. That certainly saves time. Though people who have already read the oneshots have the advantage of knowing exactly how these powers work (if we assume them properly canon.) There’s details about Saiki’s powers that get changed from the oneshots to the manga proper, like the timer on his spirit-body separation ability and his “clairvoyance” being called x-ray vision. Wait, no, that was the oneshot. Well, my point still stands.

I also like this part about a sense of achievement being impossible for him, since everything is too easy. It’s rather depressing if you think about it too much. Saiki definitely doesn’t belong in the “normal” life role that he forces himself into. But given his alternatives (Allow himself to become a government lab rat and subject himself to experimentation? Become a worldwide celebrity who fixes the problems of the world and maintains peace, essentially becoming a human god?? hang out with his amoral genius older brother who hates him???) his attempts at normalcy are understandable. And very entertaining.

No extreme emotions… I hope Asou sensei knew the can of worms he was opening by having Saiki say this. But I’m guessing he didn’t.

And the first of Kusuo’s problems in his titular disastrous life is the very normal problem of having to unlock the door for his father, who locked himself out of the house. But at this point, we the readers have no idea the extent of his powers and just how much his full potential is underutilized.

why doesn’t Kurumi have a job..? their mortgage is probably expensive and her son is an older teenager and fully capable of taking care of himself… i guess she just wants to be the doting mom for her son.

Ah!? Is that where Saiki gets his standards for how he uses his powers? Makes sense.

Sigh. watching your parents wrestle while waxing eloquent about coffee jelly. Never change Saiki. (and he never does.) He is really making me crave coffee jelly.

so cute.

XD his father’s thoughts are so ~kawaii~. Teehee.

Also, I never see anyone use forced telepathy in fics! More stuff that has so much damn potential… note to future me reading this.

The word used here in the manga is “psi user.” Let’s see… In Japanese, it is 超能力者(chyounouryokusha). Exactly what I expected; the same term as used on the cover. And that’s the word he uses in the anime, too, but in the subtitles, it’s translated as simply “psychic.” For those wondering, he says: 見せてやろう…超能力者の力おな… ‼︎ I am too low level to properly translate this, but I’d say it’s something like, “I’ll show you… a psi user’s power!”

Our translators: “I shall show you… the power of a psi user…!” (and they keep the punctuation and spacing used in the original Japanese.)

:,) He smiles… I love it when he smiles with the sparklies and the shine comes into his eyes. He doesn’t make this expression but a few meager times in the comic. And one of them is at the very end.

Papa also has a temper?? Ugh. He’s such a spoiled child. I can’t blame Kusuo for being a brat when his dad is like that.

And then Kusuo immediately smashes every window in the house using his psi powers out of coffee jelly induced jealousy. Another turn of events that just doesn’t make sense in the anime!!!

The translator note at the end is very sweet. I feel lucky that such a good scan team took on Saiki k; they really put effort into it, even the untranslatable stuff.

Alrighty, (wii fit meditation announcer guy voice) that’s… the end. It took me the better part of four hours to read and touch type all of this on my smartphone. Time well spent. (though I really should have used my computer. No, actually I’d better not, or all of my posts are going to be the length of 0-6…)

end of 1-1💫

[thelavendernarwhal]

I received an ask that a person wanted answered anonymously, so:

But I really, truly cannot stop thinking about this one scene in Legacy. It’s around page 351.

“You mean having Dizznee pull some money from your birth fund and then hitting up a shop for a couple of minutes?” Keefe asked. “Yeah, Dex told me all about how not exhausting that was last night, when he checked in to tell me how things went for you two in London, while someone was off doing something with Mr. Forkle…”

So what I’m hearing is sleepy Dex on call with Keefe? Dex telling Keefe that he’s tired? A cute little nightly convo?

Side note, why was Dex tired? Does his ability make him tired? I need more elaboration, Shannon.

This scene is hella interesting to me since you look at it and it immediately seems like a Sokeefe scene, but in the middle, it has this seemingly random shift into talking about a completely different character dynamic. The context this snippet falls into is Keefe trying to cheer up Sophie after she had an argument with Mr Forkle. It all makes sense within of their relationship and dynamic, but this bit of dialogue is communicating something pretty different. It’s pointing out that Keefe and Dex have a close friendship that Sophie isn’t super aware of and that Sophie doesn’t spend a lot of time with/pay attention to Dex. 

Both of these things can be chalked up to the fact the story is from Sophie’s perceptive. The big plot details have to happen or be explained to her or else they won’t make it to the reader. That doesn’t leave a lot of page time for banter, especially for a character like Dex who’s narrative role can mostly be done off stage. Of course, Dex’s character can be used for a lot more than ‘cool gadget guy’ (ie class divides, matchmaking/queer allegories, parallels to many other characters, etc), but that’s a whole different can of worms. Having moments like this that show things happening outside of Sophie helps establish a larger, more lively world. It shows that Sophie isn’t the center of the universe. 

But these little moments can be established with many different characters. There are so many background dynamics and friendships that can be leveraged for this purpose which makes it interesting that specifically Keefe and Dex are highlighted. In fact, these two are highlighted in this way fairly often. Back in book 3, the two of them hit it off quickly and spend more time together outside of a group setting which then translates into many Keefex moments (including getting their team/ship name). Late night calls are probably pretty common. 

But what really gets me about all of this is the casualness and I think it's because few other relationships in this series have that. Even characters that are established to be best friends have a good amount of tension between them (ie Fitz and Keefe, Sophie and Dex, Stina and Marella), but Keefe and Dex don’t have that. There’s a sense of stability and trust. They hang out and talk to each other without a practical reason to do so. Dex feels okay complaining to Keefe about projects and, presumably, feelings of isolation. Especially seen in Unlocked, Keefe trusts Dex to help him and hear some of the ugly things he doesn’t want to say to Sophie. There's definitely a lot of room for cute late night conversation on call, but also for a chill relationship in a sea of high-tension dynamics. 

The length of this thing kind of got away from me but that's my take :) 

(Also, I'm exploring a lot more of the mechanics of technopathy in my own writing, so I think that it's possible that Dex’s experience is something very similar to Keefe’s as the Forbidden Cities has more integrated technology that seemingly ‘speaks’ to Dex. That could be very overwhelming for him, hence why he's tired.)

[princess-of-anons]

It is Worm Time once more

At long last, the color version of Gordon’s Worm Form is here! As mentioned in a previous post and on the ref, the pattern is based somewhat on the HEV Suit. Unlike Benrey, Gordon’s worm form has a unique ability provided to him by his experience with the mini-gun hand: Devil Claw Mode!

Obviously, Devil Claw Mode is derived from Devil Gun Mode, but they are pretty similar in name only. Devil Claw Mode allows Gordon to use his claws to attack for devastating results. These claws will only inflict damage if Gordon intends to harm you with them, and if you DO take damage, the pain will be brief but will feel overwhelmingly like your body is both burning and freezing at the same time.

Below are pictures of the normal claws (left) and the Devil Claws (right). Gordon can deploy them at will and has often kept them on, knowing they won’t hurt his friends, because he likes the glow.

I also have a couple Freeworm sketches, plus some Benrey and the Smol Worm Mode. After unlocking Worm Mode, both men have the option to combine the Worm Mode with the Sizeshifting abilities that Benrey has previously displayed to create HLVRAI Worm Off the String. There’s no limit to how big or small the worm form can be, but after a certain Smallness threshold it takes up less “resources” to just make the worms a single color instead of maintaining the color pattern; both this and the noodle arms can be turned on and off at will if they REALLY want to keep their peculiar markings.

Just like last time, I have a transparent version of Gordon Worm and a “lights out” version underneath the read more

[thesunshineriptide]

How would shady fish boys comfort an autistic MC? Easy

Characters: Jade leech, Floyd leech, Azul ashengrotto

Content warning: overstimulation, autistic meltdowns, mental health discussion, panic, going nonverbal

While prepping Mostro Lounge for the dinner rush, Yuu began to feel jittery. The music was a little too loud, the kitchen was loud and hot, the dining room was dark and cool, the lights were bright and dim and backlit and hard to see. Starting to feel the beginnings of a sensory meltdown, Yuu sought out one of the trio

(Headcanons based off my personal experiences with overstimulation as an autistic person)

Jade Leech

Jade seems the type to ground with stimulus.

He would take someone out of the room and have them sit somewhere quiet.

He also seems the type to sing to you - nothing high pitched or fast, and just loud enough to not be a nuisance but not loud enough to cause distress.

He’d sit next to you a little bit away until you seemed to recover, then offer a little more closeness.

Sure, he’s not the touchy-feely type, but overstimulation isn’t emotional either

As far as he sees it, he’s simply offering what he would want in that situation

(which he is often in, since all the fish boys are neurodivergent)

He wouldn’t ask any questions about what you need, he would just do some executive functioning in place

Might look at you for confirmation if an issue is directly related to you, but would use his best judgement

If you owe him something, you won’t know it until much later.

Yes, both Leech boys want whatever is going to be most amusing, but that level of distress isn’t fun

Overall 10/10 reaction. He’s doing his best to ease the situation without causing more distress. He’s also the least panicky of the octotrio

“You seem to be perking up. Are you feeling better now, Prefect? Good…I’m pleased to hear that. If you ever find that coming on again, you may come find me. No, no, you don’t owe me anything. I struggle just the same in that department, as does Azul. We can do this whenever you need it.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd is familiar with overstimulation too, although his experience is different

With Jade as his twin, he’s seen the reactions over and over again

He has a good grasp of what to do, but his methods are…well

He can do what Jade usually needs, which is to be removed from the room and taken somewhere quiet

He also understands sensory issues, he has them himself, so while Jade would take you somewhere more comfortable like one of your dorm rooms, Floyd’s going to take you to Azul’s office

It’s quiet and cold and there’s a few places to sit so it does the trick, so long as Azul isn’t in there

Because if he is, he’s going to see you having an issue and immediately assume something serious is going on and start grilling Floyd

If you start crying (or if you’re like me, start crying again) then Floyd’s first instinct is to pull you into a hug

He’s strong and tall and warm and he knows the exact amount of pressure to apply to make the brain worms calm down without suffocating you

If this helps, Congrats! New Ally unlocked, this is mutually beneficial

If this doesn’t help his next course of action is to grab Azul and leave you to recover by yourself in his office

Overall 7/10 he’s doing his best but his first instincts might not be helpful

“Koebi-Chan? Are you doing okay now? I hope I helped some, it’s no fun when you don’t feel good. Do you want something to eat? I can go get you one of those fancy teas from the lounge. I- oh, you want me to squeeze you again? Of course I will!”

Azul Ashengrotto

While the other two can jump into action right away, Azul is a little late to the party

He can read people well in situations where he wants something, or he’s trying to manipulate them, but just casually?

This man has no idea what’s going on

He’ll notice, after a bit, that you’re not acting normally. Something seems…off

He’ll also try and ask you about it

Unfortunately, asking questions is kind of not helpful right now, Azul, please just make the lights stop being so loud

Oh look, he got the memo. He knows exactly what’s going on now

If mostro lounge is open and busy, he’ll come have you sit in his office. He’ll even bring you some water and offer you his mood octopus and some fidget toys so you can communicate nonverbally

He’s also now considering how helpful it would be to learn sign language. Maybe the whole trio should learn it

If mostro lounge isn’t open or busy, he’d take you to his room

His whole room is basically built as the softest sensory deprivation chamber imaginable

He’d probably sit with you and read a book, and once you seem to be looking better he’d invite you to sit on the floor with him and parallel play

Homie is plugged into the autistic community online so he has all the fun words and phrases to describe what’s going on

He’d leave Jade in charge until he was sure that you’d recovered

“We can sit here as long as you’d like, it’s no rush. No, it’s okay, Jade can take control. He knows what it’s like as much as I do. If you don’t mind me asking, was there something in particular that triggered you, or was it just too much overall? You don’t have to answer if you’re not ready, I promise. Huh? Oh, no, Prefect, you don’t owe me anything. I’m a housewarden, it’s my job to make sure people stay safe.”

[roanniom]

BOARDING SCHOOL!STEVE!!!! your mind!!!

what do you headcannon as the dynamic between steve and the reader would be? i feel like there's definitely potential for enemies to lovers here...

Boarding School!Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Boarding School!Steve AU

Oh definitely enemies to lovers.

The first day he meets you, he stumbles into your study room in the library. You’re studying feverishly and his intrusion is entirely unwelcome.

“This room has been reserved,” you say curtly from over your book. Steve has been peering through the little window in the door, but he looks over the shoulder at you when you speak.

“Good, so they probably won’t think to check in here?” he asks.

“That depends. Who are you running from?”

“The welcome committee. If I hear about one more school club I’ll lose it,” he says with a lopsided grin, dropping himself into a chair beside you. You frown at how he’s made himself comfortable.

“That’d be Miles. He’s planning on going to a state school,” you say distastefully, returning your attention to your book and flipping the page. “You’re safe. That boy hasn’t seen the inside of a study room since freshman orientation. I don’t think he remembers they exist.”

Steve snorts and leans back in his chair, surveying you filling for the first time. Taking in your excellent posture, your neat clothes, and the stacks of books and papers around you.

“Not a fan of state schools?”

“They’re fine,” you shrug, not looking up at him. “If you don’t plan on succeeding in life.”

“Wow,” Steve let’s out a laugh, flexing his hands open and closed. You notice them in your peripheral vision and try to pretend you didn’t. “You’re a little intense, aren’t ya?”

“The word I like is motivated,” you counter. You place the book down on the table and fix him with a stare. “I’m assuming you’re not…”

“Steve,” Steve offers, reaching a hand out to shake, a smile on his face in spite of your coldness. “Steve Harrington. Transfer senior. Unmotivated. Probably destined for a fate worse than state school.”

The corner of your mouth quirks and you work hard to suppress the smile he’s pulling from you. He’s charming, the bastard. You have no time for charming. You do shake his hand, however, and tell him your name.

“A fate worse than state school. That’s a defeatist attitude, Harrington. I’d rather…” you trail off, not sure if you should go that dark, but Steve finishes for you.

“You’d rather die? Harsh!” He takes the sentiment with good humor. “Ok so if my future isn’t worth living for, what’s the future you’re aiming for that’s got you cooped up in here all day?”

“The Ivy League,” you say without a second of hesitation. Steve’s eyebrows lift.

“Well excuse me. I’m in the presence of greatness,” he says with mock reverence. You roll your eyes as he stands up and gives you a slight bow. “I guess I should get out of your hair then and let you get back to more important things.”

You finally smile, both charmed against your will and relieved to see him put his hand on the door knob.

“Yeah, you probably should.”

“One last thing - can you point me in the direction of the basketball court? That’s the only place on this campus that I’d give a shit about.” He shrugs to himself. “Though I’m sure it’s too late in the year to join the team at this point.”

You laugh in response. A jock.

Of course.

“Did you see the dining hall yet?”

“Yeah.”

“The gym is in the building directly to the right.” You look back to your book, but then something compels you to add, “The janitor leaves it unlocked on Tuesday nights, if you’re looking for some time on the court after hours.”

“How do you know that, book worm like you,” Steve asks incredulously, half way out the door. “You ball when you’re not in the library?”

You smirk up at him.

“No, I swim laps in the pool when nobody’s around.” It comes across as a challenge, both to his perception of you and to his teasing.

“Sneaking around after hours. What would the Dean say?” Steve waggles his eyebrows before stepping out into the greater library. He looks both ways to ensure the coast is clear and then looks back to you with a grin. “See you around, Ivy League.”

He disappears as the door swings shut, causing a draft that ruffles your loose papers. And as you try to settle back into studying, you can’t help but feel ruffled yourself.

[thattiredtypewriter]

Rat Problem

(This is my first short story I've written in a long while so apologies for any grammatical errors, I had the brain worms to start being creative again)

“Starting log. Probably not the smartest thing I could do with my time but I’ve picked up worse habits from my old job. So long as I don’t record anything important I won’t be breaking any taboos, won’t have anyone I don’t want knocking on the office door. Anyways I’m recording this and leaving this here in case things got way over my head. If you’re from the office just leave this job ain’t worth it, if you’re the person that killed me congratulations and enjoy your fancy new toys. I’m not explaining how they work to you. Anyways this is Grettir, signing off.”

With a click she sets the recorder on the chair in the entrance, idly chewing on the matchstick in her mouth. With a deep breath and a low sigh she began stepping through the hallway, heavy boot steps echoing through the hall alongside the faint sounds of a saxophone. She knew to enjoy this moment, the brief calm before the storm. Her dirty olive colored coat swaying behind her and brushing up against the large object braced on her back. If one wasn’t paying attention enough they could assume that it was the case to a cello or some other large instrument. Dirt, dried blood, and burn marks could be seen across her gray suit pants and shirt. Her grayish blue hair had been tied back into a long ponytail, dusty blue eyes glancing to the door in front of her. 

Grettir’s footsteps had finally been drowned out by the jazz echoing out from the other side of the door. She repeated the instructions to herself as she stopped at the door. “Take a left from the back exit, through the backstage entrance, and make your way to the man beside the closet.” Pushing her way through the double doors she followed her instructions, a few idle glances landed on her but no one made an effort to stop her. A few feathers with an evening to burn through couldn’t care less about some band member who came in late. Oh if only they knew. The dressing rooms were mostly empty, all the band members were already on stage performing for the evening. The only people here were Grettir and a man propped up against a set of drawers next to a door tapping his foot in time with the music. She stepped up to the door and the man placed a hand on the door handle as if to block her and cleared his throat. 

“Clearance?”

His tone was direct but aggressive, he was a tall man with a neatly cut suit. His black hair slicked back. He looked down at Grettir with a look of annoyance, he clearly wasn’t expecting this sudden disturbance.

She pulled a paper from her coat pocket and held it out to him. “This enough clearance?”

He unfolded the paper and scanned through it before unlocking and opening the door with an annoyed grumble. The door opened into an elevator, she stepped through and the man followed her in making sure to close the door behind them. There were two buttons on the elevator, one labeled E and the other labeled B. Below the buttons was a small black square. The man pulled out a badge and placed it against the black bar, waiting for a click before pressing the button labeled B. 

The trip down was long and quiet, Grettir didn’t mind the quiet but it was clearly starting to annoy the man even more. He pats around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, taking one out and holding it out to Grettir. She looks down and pushes his hand away.

“Sorry I don’t smoke.”

“Care to give me a light?” He looked at the matchstick she had in her mouth.

“Nah, this is the only one I got. I’m sure you can light it yourself like a big boy.”

With another grumble he pulls out a lighter. “You a part of the new band?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you play?”

“Drums.”

He shoots a confused look at the thing on her back. “Weird case for some drums.”

“What about it?”

“Don’t you usually keep drums in a box?”

“Yeah.”

Grettir’s short answers were eating away at the man’s patience, making this long elevator trip feel even longer. Grettir simply wanted to ride out this silence in peace and the man finally seemed to get that. 

The sounds of the elevator took her back. Going down deeper and deeper, putting on her old uniform, picking up her clipboard and recorder before walking through the halls. She would pass by so many faces both familiar and new before reaching her department, reluctantly ready to meet the same old group of people she had grown so accustomed to. She’d do her work and then head back to her assigned room where she would repeat that process. Her moment of recollection was cut short by the quick crackle of a walkie talkie from the gentleman next to her.

“Alright the band’s all ready, go ahead and lock up and make your way down here.”

“The band’s ready? But I got the drummer right here?”

“The drummer? Look it's probably just some feather trying to sneak in. Shoo them away and-”

Whatever was left of the response was swiftly cut off by the loud crack of Grettir’s club connecting with the man’s head. He was on the floor in an instant, blood beginning to pool beneath him. A low sigh escaped the woman as she reached for the object on her back and took it out, unfolding the tower shield as she readied herself. With a light ding the elevator finally reached its stop, the set of doors sliding open. A new voice chimed in, another man.

“That was fast, guess they just decided it wasn’t worth it?” 

His response was met by the sudden impact of Grettir’s shield pressing him tight against the wall, he strained against the shield but Grettir wasn’t budging. “This place got a map?” 

“What? I- who are you?” Another quick shove dazed the man for a moment.

“Map. Does this place have a map?”

“Alright alright, you want me to draw it out for you or what?” 

With an annoyed click of her tongue she backed off, she had her answer. The poor man only had a brief moment to recover before he met a similar fate to his friend in the elevator, her club cracking against the side of his head and his limp body slumping to the floor. She probably could have had the man draw her a map or forced him to be a guide but she knew from experience that was both a bad idea and unreliable. People forget things under stress or lead her around in circles to waste time for their friends to show up. After all it was the first thing she taught new fixers at her office; the enemy will do just about anything to get back an advantage, don’t give them that chance. With the heavy sounds of boots she walked down the halls of the underground facility, unlike the halls above these were much more cramped. Enough room for someone to walk by you but nothing more than that. She was used to it and preferred this type of environment for her jobs. Gave her an excuse to work alone. 

As she made her way through the twists and turns of the facility she found herself occasionally scraping her club against the metal walls. It was a simple weapon, a smooth handle with a bit of cloth wrapped around it and at the top the club was lined with several bumps. It was small but in close spaces like this that was an advantage, less chances for her to hit the walls. For members of the Trench Office small weapons like this were practically mandatory, some of the more confident fixers would take larger weapons but most of them didn’t last long. With most jobs being taken alone you didn’t have anyone to cover your back in case your weapon got caught on the wall or even worse you had no room to pull the thing out. It’s like she always told new fixers that got lucky enough to accompany her “small things like this are easy to conceal and let you turn small spaces like this into your advantage.” Though she was sure she could count the amount of times she told someone that on one hand. 

After following a couple arrows she turned the corner and was met with three more well dressed people gathered around some double doors, they were talking about something to each other but Grettir had tuned it out. Small talk usually wasn’t too important to whatever job she was doing. One of the three noticed the woman with the tower shield casually approaching them. 

“Did you get lost girly?”

No response.

“You hear me? You ain’t supposed to be down here.”

She stopped, still no response.

The person angrily stepped towards Grettir, cracking his knuckles. “I said you’re not-”

Grettir didn’t let him finish, quickly stepping forward and jamming the tip of the club into his stomach before bringing it down on the back of their head as they doubled over in pain.

Snapping out of their confusion the other two stepped into action, one pulling out a machete while the other spoke into their walkie. “We have trouble, someone managed to get in here. Might need to send some folks over to help.” 

The other person rushed her, stepping over the crumpled body of their comrade and attempting to bring the machete down on her. She took a step back and held her shield forward letting the blade bounce off of the hard metal shield. With her new found opening she rushed forward, slamming the tower shield against the person and knocking them off balance. Before they had a chance to regain their balance Grettir’s club had already connected with the person’s jaw, knocking them into the wall. As the second guard's body slid onto the ground Grettir walked towards the third.

“They’re not coming.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“No one’s coming to help you.”

Despite the blood stains across her body her tone was very casual, like it was simple small talk between herself and someone at a bar.

“You had the advantage here, you just fumbled it. Besides with halls like these not like they could send that many people to help.” 

She looked down at the other two bodies, using her foot to open up their jackets and give them a quick look. “Got a key for this door?”

“What?”

“This door here.” She tapped the door with her club causing the person to flinch. “Got a key for it?”

“How did you-”

“Key?” She didn’t even give them a chance to ask their question, cutting them off.

“No, we were about to-”

All the guard heard was an annoyed grumble from Grettir before she swiftly struck them across the head with her club. “For how fast they took over the place you’d think they’d have a better handle on things, they really did just take over the first place that was mostly unprotected. Probably didn’t pay for any sort of office to protect them.”

She propped up her shield against the nearby wall and placed the tip of the club against the lock of the door. Grettir shielded her eyes and looked away as a small click was heard followed by the sound of metal piercing through metal. Another click and a quick moment later a small blast came out from the end of her club, pushing the door open with force. This was the other specialty of many Trench Office fixers, small combustion devices built within most of their weapons which could be used for both combat or breaching purposes. Most weren’t capable of producing continuous flames, but heated metal and the occasional sparks that the weapons generated could easily cause a chain reaction of fire in small spaces like this. 

Grabbing her shield, Grettir stepped through the now unlocked door. The room was dark, a couple of desks with paper scattered around on them and some bookshelves placed along the walls. She walked up to one of the desks, parsing through the stray documents until she found what she needed to find. A file with some loose papers barely hanging out of it. Her face twisted into that of annoyance as she saw the logo on the file, if it were up to her she would just walk away now and tell the person that the file was gone but they were paying a good amount of money for this job and her office needed it. Stowing the file away in a compartment on her shield she turned to leave. Maybe it was the brief moment of distaste from seeing the file she was sent to retrieve or the small amount of overconfidence she had from taking out the previous guards but she wasn’t prepared for the sudden sharp pain she felt walking out of the door as someone’s fist connected with her head. In a daze she stumbled back a bit to try and get a clear view of her attacker. All she could make out was a robust figure as they tried to say something to her, probably something along the lines of “who sent you?” or “what office are you from?” Questions she had heard plenty of times before. She felt around her lip where she was punched and noticed the matchstick she had kept in her mouth must have been knocked out by the punch. 

“Dammit.” She mumbled to herself, standing up a bit more straight before trying to rush down the man. She tried a quick overhead swing to the skull but this person was ready, lifting an arm so it took the brunt of the hit before he responded back with a swift left hook to her gut. In her fuzzy state she wasn’t going to be fast enough to try and stop this man’s blows, this was a losing fight and she needed a way to turn the tide. With a step forward she tried to drive the top of the club into the person’s stomach only for him to catch it with his right hand. Clicking the button on the handle the spike hidden in her club shot out, skewering through the man’s hand. She wedged the shield between the two and gave him a hard shove with all her weight, blood splashing against her and her shield as the weapon was dislodged from his hand. Taking this moment she ran off where she had originally come from, the person’s voice echoing through halls as he shouted. “She’s here! Cut her off at the elevator!” Turns out she was wrong about them sending help.

The good thing was that the blow from earlier hadn’t messed with her memory, the bad news was that she had a few new roadblocks in her way. She was hoping this would be a relatively quiet job but it’s never that easy, guess this will just be another mess she’ll have to clean up. Some well aimed thwacks with her club dealt with most of the people in her way and the ones that put up more of a fight became well aware of how heated metal felt. Her shield took most of the attacks aimed at her, some managed to get some lucky hits in but a few cuts and bruises were never enough to put her out of commission. Retracing her steps she knew she was just about to hit the home stretch, one last corner and it was a straight dash to the elevator. With the heavy sound of boots hitting the floor and another loud thwack of her club clearing away another goon she turned the corner. “Shit.” The man from earlier had made it ahead of her, bloodied hand wrapped tightly in his jacket while the other brandished a blade. He was positioned dead center in the hallway and Grettir could hear more people quickly approaching behind her, an extended one on one fight was a death sentence and the man knew it. There was only one idea she had and she hoped it would work.

Bracing her full weight behind her shield she charged forwards, gritting her teeth as she set herself on a straightforward course through the man in front of her. The man did his best to push back against her charge but he was losing ground, slowly getting pushed towards the elevator. Just as it looked like he was finally about to completely stop Grettir the sound of something piercing through metal could be heard followed by a click. A loud blast rang through both of their ears as Grettir’s club expelled its heat pushing him away with a rush of heat and flames.  Once she had gained the upper hand she charged forward once more, making her way into the elevator and pinning him against the wall with her shield. One final swing with her club ended the man. She quickly pressed the button and watched as the doors behind her closed and she could feel the elevator slowly rising.

Slumped against the wall she slid down, letting go of her shield and letting it rest against the wall next her. She gave a cursory glance at the two corpses next to her before looking to her shield, a hole could be seen where her spike had pierced through. The area around it glowing with heat as it cooled off. A simple fix but one her companion wasn’t going to be too happy about. She rummaged around in her coat pocket and pulled out a book of matches, reaching to pull a match out only to find none left. “You really had to get that cheap shot at me, did you?” A few more deep breaths and she pulled herself up, folding up her shield and placing it on her back. Her club had cooled down enough that she could stow it away safely. The rest of the ride up was silent once more, another quiet moment alone with her thoughts. Grettir’s eyes closed for a moment, her chest slowly rising and falling with each steady breath. She once again found her mind drifting, thoughts going back to that moment. She could hear the sounds of panic once more, dimmed hallways flanking her, her radio crackling with the frantic conversations of several people. The noises steadily growing louder and louder until finally she shouted. “Shut up for a damn second and let me breathe!”

Silence once more. 

As her eyes opened she finally noticed that the elevator was lit with the light of the backstage. That same silence hung in the air as she noticed the concerned eyes of several musicians. She pulled herself up and sighed. “You had a bit of a rat problem, consider it dealt with.” Swiping the badge from one of the bodies she sent the elevator back down as she stepped out, crushing it beneath her boot so that no one could think of using it to go back down. “If you have any complaints feel free to send them to the Trench Office, I’m sure they’ll love to hear them.” A statement she has uttered many times. Her footsteps echoed through the quiet backstage, the concerned gazes carefully watching her. She didn’t seem to pay them any mind, it was something she was used to by now. The rest of the walk home was as uneventful as things could get in the city, boots crunching in the snow as she walked towards her office tucked away in District 25. She pulled out her tape recorder once more. 

“Starting log. Grettir once again speaking. The job’s done, got your damn file. Take them and leave the rest of the payment wherever you want and if I see you step into my office again I’ll make sure it’s the last office you’ll ever step in. I’m not doing your damn dirty work again.” 

With one last click she walked off into the night, closing up her jacket as the snow fell on her shoulders.

[danielfuckingricciardo]

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - Lance Stroll x Reader (Zombie Apocalypse AU)

Pairing - Lance Stroll x Gender Neutral!Reader

Word Count - 1.2k

Content Warning - Swearing, blood, violence, major character death, sad ending

Synopsis - The world has ended, and as you emerge from a locked bathroom, you realise your own world is ending too.

Author’s Note - Firstly, blame TLOU for this one. I’ve had apocalypse brain worms, or should I say apocalypse brain-eating fungus since finishing the damn show, and I just knew I had to write something zombie-adjacent. What I didn’t expect was to make myself cry writing this lol. If you can’t tell by the content warning, this fic does not have a happy ending. Sorry! I might write some more zombie stuff because I fucking love zombie media, but I promise that if I do it won’t be as bleak and sad as this is! Also don’t judge me for listening to The Smiths 🤪

Inspired by ‘There Is A Light That Never Goes Out’ by The Smiths

“L-lance?” You say, attempting to stay as quiet as possible to avoid drawing any unwanted attention.

“It’s okay, I killed it.” Lance says from behind the door, and you tentatively unlock the bathroom door, pushing it open to reveal your dishevelled and bloodied friend leaning against the wall.

“Are you hurt?” You say, taking a step over to him and immediately scanning him for bites.

“No, I don’t think so…” Lance says, looking over his left arm, flipping his palms over before switching to the right.

He flips his hand, to reveal a shallow but bloody bite in the soft white flesh of his palm, and sighs.

“Oh, I guess I am. Fuck.” Lance says, closing his eyes and taking a shallow, shaking breath.

“No, no, no, no please. No, you’re fine, it’s okay. We’ll find a doctor or a medic or something and they can help you.” You say, struggling to fight back the tears which threatened to breach your waterlines.

“You know we don’t have time for that, (y/n), I’m so fucking sorry.” Lance says, wrapping his arms around your body that now shook uncontrollably with sobs.

“I can’t lose you, I can’t. I should’ve unlocked the door and let you in. I panicked and I was so scared. So fucking scared. Fuck Lance I can’t do this without you.” You cry, and he wraps his arms around you tighter.

“I wouldn’t have let you open that door. I wouldn’t. It’s not your fault, so don’t blame yourself, okay?” Lance says, gripping your shoulders and staring deep into your eyes.

“But I could have helped, I could have stopped him from, from, from doing this to you! But I didn’t, I’m such a fucking coward and now you’re gonna…” You say, tears streaming down your face.

“You couldn’t have stopped anything.” Lance says, using his firm grip on your shoulders to shake you slightly, “Hey, look at me, (y/n), look at me, you couldn’t have stopped anything.”

You struggle to avoid Lance’s eye line as your your tears stream hot and fast down your cheeks.

Lance moves his hand from your shoulder to wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb, offering you a small smile as your eyes finally meet his.

Snarls and screams can be heard outside the building as the two of you sit on the bloodied floor of the hallway, pressing your backs against the wall and your shoulders against one another’s.

“I don’t suppose I have long. So you need to go, get far away from me before I… before I turn into one of those guys.” Lance says, gesturing with his foot to the gnarled corpse that lay beside the two of you.

“But we’re surrounded, there’s nowhere for me to go! I knew it was only a matter of time before they got in here but I thought that at least we’d…” You begin, but you can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence.

“At least we’d, what?” Lance asks, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, resting his bleeding palm against your arm.

“We’d die together.” You say, resting your head on his shoulder as you begin to sob quietly.

“Nope, just me dying,” Lance says, laughing awkwardly to ease the tension. “I’m fucked, but you still have a chance, (y/n), no matter how slim it might be. And besides, I don’t want to… to be the one who hurts you. Dying I’m okay with, but hurting you? That would kill me all over again.”

“Leaving you here would kill me just the same. So I can’t, I won’t. If you’re fucked, then so am I.” You say, letting out a small laugh.

Lance joins you in your laughter, and soon the two of you are both bent over, laughing at your own impending demise.

“It’s not even funny, I don’t know why we’re laughing.” You say, wiping away a tear of laughter from your cheek.

“It’s just ridiculous, I suppose? And you laugh at ridiculous things, right?” Lance says, offering you a small smile.

“Yep.” You nod, “it’s fucking mental is what it is. I did not expect to be running from zombies when I woke up this morning, that’s for sure.”

“Well, nothing like the zombie apocalypse to shake up the old daily routine.”

“It’s definitely been shaken up, I can’t argue with that. I wonder if the FIA have released a zombie guidance document yet? Ten second time penalty to any driver who mauls their team mate to death in the pit lane, or something like that.” You say, and Lance snorts.

“Even getting zombified wouldn’t stop the FIA from issuing new regulations.” Lance says, and you chuckle.

Lance pauses, looking across at you with a sudden concern on his face.

“You could still get out, you know?” He says, and you sigh.

“I could, but why would I want to? To quote The Smiths while the world is ending, ‘to die by your side, is such a heavenly way to die’. Morrissey is a racist shithead but he wrote some surprisingly relevant lyrics for the current situation.” You say, with a slight chuckle.

“That he did.” Lance says, and the two of you once again descend into laughter.

Your momentary happiness is interrupted as you hear frenzied banging against the locked door at the end of the corridor.

You look up, and hear the smash of glass as a bloodied hand breaks through the small window of the door, desperately grabbing at the air for anything and everything it could kill.

“Well, that’s that decided then, I guess. We’re both going to get torn apart by a horde of zombies before I can get out and you can turn into one.” You say, giving Lance a sad smile.

“Wait… fuck, if this is my last chance to do it, then fuck it.” Lance says, before pressing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

You tangle your hands in Lance’s soft brown hair as you return the kiss. His hand settles on your thigh and you smile into him, using your grip on his hair to pull him closer to you.

The banging of fists on the door gets louder, and you hear the wood creak as the hinges begin to buckle against the weight of the bodies pushing against it.

“I love you. Always have.” You say, refusing to turn away from Lance for one second, studying his features to commit them to memory before the creatures tear you away from him.

“I love you too. Always will.” Lance says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your head tight against his chest.

“See you in the next life?” You say, looking up at him, and he nods.

“You just try and stop me from finding you.” Lance chuckles, and you smile up at him, reaching up to press a soft kiss to his lips.

The door finally gives in to the attack of monstrous fists, and they rush the corridor.

You hear their frenzied footsteps, edging closer and closer to where you sat, wrapped in one another’s arms, but you don’t turn around. You just look at Lance, and smile.

‘To die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine’

[aparticularbandit]

Of An Endless Infinity: Technical Memory (III)

Summary: What does it mean to be the Ultimate Hope?

Is it only hope on the big scale?  That the world is not so dark and depressing and destructive as the villain in front of you says it is?  That you can win, even when everything else says that you can’t?  That maybe it is better to live your life, even afraid, than it is to keep yourself sequestered away, alone?

Does it not also mean hope on the small scale?

Or: Makoto sacrifices himself in the hope that the other survivors might be able to help Junko. It remains to be seen whether this will actually succeed.

Chapter Rating: M for mention/discussion of sexual assault. Fic Rating: M for Danganronpa reasons.

TW: Mention/discussion of sexual assault.

AO3

previous chapter | next chapter

MEMORY UNLOCKED.

CONTINUE?

YES | NO

Memory #037 Found.

Password: ************

Memory #037 Unlocked.

Memory Downloading….

Between The Tragedies.

“Mukuro punched you?”

The words fall through Junko’s lips like rain from a hungry sky, and Kyoko isn’t sure if she’s the parched land or the worm within it, drowning as her world becomes all too full.  Her eyes drift from the other girl’s.  “Yes.”

“Mukuro punched you?” Junko repeats, and out of the corner of her eye, Kyoko can see how wide Junko’s eyes grow, how soft and blue, how they roam across her, examine her, trying to find just where she’s hurt.

Not if.

Where.

Kyoko sucks her split lip between her teeth and hopes that Junko didn’t notice its slight discoloration.  “Yes.”

Junko reaches out as though to touch her, as though she might let her spider fingers trace her face, press against her body, find the places where she must be hurt.  She hesitates at the last, fingers so close Kyoko can feel them hovering against her skin though she does not touch her.  Her brow furrows.  “Mukuro punched y—?”

“Yes.”

Of course, it’s entirely believable that the Ultimate Soldier could punch someone without leaving a mark, especially a trained Fenrir mercenary such as Mukuro Ikusaba, but she wouldn’t punch someone without leaving some sort of pain behind.  An ache.  A broken bone.  Junko, with her thorough examination, will find that pain eventually, especially given that the most glaring mark is a split lip.  Not because she’s a doctor or a nurse or anything like that, but the Ultimate Fashionista….

To some, a split lip might be a fashion statement.

(To Kyoko, it’s not.)

“But….”  Junko’s voice trails off, brow still furrowed as she looks up, as she searches Kyoko’s eyes with confusion.  “But why?”

Kyoko averts her gaze again.  She won’t lie to Junko.  Not about this.  It’s too important.  (That doesn’t mean she wants to say it.)  She crosses her arms and refuses to wince when she does.  “I asked her a question she didn’t want to answer.”

This time, when Junko reaches up, she doesn’t hesitate and just touches Kyoko’s split lip.  Her thumb is warm, soft, not that Kyoko is thinking about that at all, and when she pulls it away, there’s a spatter of blood left behind.  She focuses on that as she asks, voice barely above a whisper, “What did you ask?”

“I asked her about Yasuke Matsuda.”

I asked her about you.

Junko sucks a sharp breath through her lips.  The furrow between her brows grows deeper.  “Why would you do something like that?”  Her voice is still soft, even as she brushes Kyoko’s blood onto her soft white designer sweatpants in a gesture that seems dismissive, the same sort of gesture she’d make if she found something else on her fingertips that she didn’t like.  Nothing special about it.  (But it shimmers both bright and dark where it stains.)

“She’s the Ultimate Soldier,” Kyoko answers, blunt as always.  “She was part of a mercenary group.  She’s your sister.  Matsuda is your best friend, and….”  She swallows, forces herself to continue.  “Matusda is more than your best friend, and he is ignoring you.  Mukuro could find him for you.  A good sister would find him for you.”

(She only has one sister with whom to compare Mukuro, and the latter is not measuring up.)

(…she only has one person she would consider as more than her best friend with whom to compare Matsuda, and he is not measuring up either.)

Immediately, Junko’s head pops up.  “Please tell me you didn’t tell Mukuro that she was a bad sister.”  A smile plays about her lips.  Amused.  “That’s just bait, Kyokyo.  I would punch you for that.”  Her eyes flick to Kyoko’s split lip, and that smile fades.  “Even if it’s true.”

“Not in so many words.”  Kyoko grits her teeth, and this time, she does wince.  Junko’s already seen.  She doesn’t have to pretend anymore.  Her gaze flicks to Junko and then just as quickly away again.  “You don’t remember anything from when you lost your memory, correct?”

“No.”  Junko answers fast.  It’s a point of sensitivity with her and one that Kyoko doesn’t often bring up – that for a few months, she’d lost her memories, though this was never truly revealed to their class, only a rumor that Kyoko later confirmed; that after Junko had been removed from class and put on probation due to academic instability, she’d reverted into someone who went by the name Ryoko Otonashi; and that, when Junko finally regained her true memories, she’d lost those of Ryoko.  Multiple times, people of varying degrees of importance within the school (and at least one other of their Talented medical students) asked Junko about those lost memories, but nothing came of it.  So when Junko continues, rapid, “No, I…I don’t,” it’s with frustration under her tone.

By way of explanation, Kyoko continues, “Makoto ran into you once.  He said you remembered Matsuda, but not Mukuro.  He’s obviously important to you.”  She doesn’t say it, but the More than Mukuro is implied.  “That she refuses to help you find him….”  She lets out a huff.  “She’s such a disappointment.”

(Maybe more than that.)

Junko giggles, then, as though Kyoko’s said something exceptionally amusing.  “Come here.”  She sits on her bed and pats the mattress next to her.  When Kyoko sits next to her, she takes Kyoko’s gloved hands in both of her own, stares down at them, and then sighs.  “You don’t…you don’t need to find Yasuke for me, okay?”  Her head tilts.  “I…I love him, and everything—”  Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, and she sniffs once, raises a hand to push them away.  “—but he…he doesn’t want to be found.  I need to move on, you know?”  She swallows, nods to herself.  “If he doesn’t…if he’s not interested, then I need to…I need to move on.”

It’s more than that.

Blatant in the way that Matsuda is the only one Ryoko remembered when she’d forgotten everything and everyone else, in the way that his was the room where she hid when….

(Kyoko remembers where she went when she needed to hide and wonders who she would remember, if all of her memories were stripped from her, if she could only remember one of them.  Would it be her grandfather, or would it be…?)

There’s something unsaid here, but she’s not going to push.

Instead, Kyoko’s eyes narrow.  “He’s a jerk.”

“Yeah.”  Junko gives a soft bark of a singular laugh, coughs it out.

“A real jerk.”

Junko nods in agreement, eyes still watery with unspilled tears, and then she looks up, examining Kyoko again, but this time with confusion etching into her sharp features.  “Why did you….”  She struggles to find the words.  “Why would you do that?  For me?”

Kyoko blinks twice.  “You’re my best friend,” she says hesitantly, hoping that this is enough.  “I wanted to help.”

And she knows, among other things, what it is to be suddenly deprived of someone who should have always been there, who would have always been there, given the opportunity.  She knows she would have searched every last nook and cranny to find her, if she’d still been alive.

“You’re sure it’s not because….”  Junko doesn’t finish the sentence.  She glances up through her long lashes, tears still at the corners of her eyes, and meets Kyoko’s, searches them.  “Are you…are you interested in me, Kyoko?  Because that’s just….”  She pauses, considers.  “That’s just such an awful lot of effort you went through, and most friends….”  She laughs, gaze dropping, and wipes away her tears again.  “I’ve never had a friend who would go that far for me.”

I have.

Kyoko hesitates.  Bites her lower lip, despite the sting of where it’s split, and tugs it between her teeth again, worries it.  “I don’t know,” she admits, uncertain.  The question’s caught her off guard.  She wouldn’t have thought that of herself, wouldn’t have thought that as a potential motive in this case.  But it’s possible, isn’t it?  For that to be a motive?  For that to be one of her motives?  “I’ve…I’ve never been interested in anyone before.  I wouldn’t know if that’s what this is or not.”  The closest she’s felt like this with anyone was with Yui, and Yui was....

Yui was her onee-sama.  That’s not the same.

“I just know that….”  Now it’s Kyoko’s turn to struggle with words.  It isn’t as though she hasn’t thought about this, about what to say if Junko asked why she was pushing Mukuro.  She has.  She just hadn’t expected that angle, and so doesn’t have an answer ready, and is still so uncertain.  “You’re my best friend,” she repeats, “and I want to make sure that you’re okay.”  A pause, then, finally, “That you aren’t hurt.”

That’s the important thing, really.

(That, and the truth.)

“Our dearest knight,” Junko murmurs, and she reaches up, gently cupping Kyoko’s face with one hand.  “Always trying to protect us.”  Then her face lights up – sudden, unexpected – and her eyes grow bright with excitement.  “I know!  Let’s test it!”  She grins and leans forward.  “You should kiss me!”

“Wh-what?”  Kyoko backs up so suddenly that she nearly falls off the bed.  “Wh-wh-why?  A-and aren’t you interested in Matsuda?”

Junko giggles.  “You’re stuttering like Toko, and all I did was tell you to kiss me.  Maybe you are interested!”  But her excitement calms at the mention of Matsuda.  “I told you I need to move on,” she says, and she reaches over, takes Kyoko’s hand in her own again, and gives it a little squeeze.  “Besides, if you kiss me, then you’ll know!  One way or the other.  And it’s not like I’ll be mad at you if you aren’t, or anything.”  She kicks her heels against her bed like a little girl.  “I’ve been kissed by loads of people who didn’t actually care or whatever.  It doesn’t always suck.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that,” Kyoko says immediately, jaw clenching again, even though it hurts.  “You deserve better.  They shouldn’t just—”

“Talking like someone who really is in love with me.”

Kyoko cuts herself off.  “I don’t want to be like those creeps you talk about.  I don’t want to be another person who kisses you just because.”

Like you’re some sort of toy, some sort of doll.  All dress up clothes and pretty make-up and not real at all.

“You won’t be!”  Junko holds up her hand, one finger up.  “Because one, you’re not a guy.  Duh.”  She raises a second finger.  “And two, you couldn’t ever be a creep, Kyokyo.  Have you even met you?”

“No.”  Kyoko blinks twice.  “I can’t meet me.  I don’t understand why that’s a question—”

Junko places a finger over Kyoko’s lips, and Kyoko flushes a bright red.  “And you wouldn’t be kissing me just because,” she says, suddenly serious.  “You’d be kissing me because I told you to.  Because I said you could.  None of the creeps ever did that.”  She lowers her finger, notes that there’s no blood on it with a timid smile, and then looks away from Kyoko, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly bashful.  “You don’t…you don’t have to,” she continues, soft and quiet.  “If…if you don’t want to, I mean.  But I think—”  And here, a fond smile crosses her face.  “I think it will help.  And maybe I want to help you, too.”  She shoves a hand through her long pink hair and shivers.  “I’m making this so awkward!”

Kyoko doesn’t know what to say.  She doesn’t know what Junko wants her to say either, not that that matters.  So her gaze lowers, face still flushed, and says, “I’ve never kissed anyone before.  I won’t be any good.”

“Trust me, you’ll be better than some of the other guys who’ve kissed me.”  Junko flicks something from the tip of one of her nails, leans back on the palms of her hands, and then looks up at Kyoko.  “So what do you say?  Wanna give it a shot?”

You say that so casually.  Like it doesn’t mean anything.

And maybe, to Junko, it doesn’t.  Maybe it shouldn’t to Kyoko either.  But she’s never kissed anyone, never been kissed by anyone.  Perhaps she gives off too much of an intimidating air; no one’s ever really approached her, not even in middle school.  (Yui got two confessions in the short time she knew her and probably had more, but Kyoko?  Not even one.)  Not that she’s ever really cared about any of that.  It always seemed like a waste of time.  It still does.  But….

Kyoko hesitantly nods, and Junko’s eyes grow bright again.  Is she like this with everyone she’s kissed?  This…excited?  She…she doesn’t even want to think about that.  (She will never live up to any of them.  Even the creeps.  (Why does she even care?))  “How….”  She hesitates, brows knitting together.  “How do I….”  Her voice trails off; she can’t even put words to her question, and she flushes an even darker red.

Junko shrugs.  (As if it doesn’t mean anything to her.)  “Most people really don’t think about it.”  She shifts and turns to her, curious.  "Maybe that’s the problem.  Maybe you’re thinking about it too much.”  Her fingers curl beneath her palm, then she flattens them out and bites her lower lip, glances away.  “Maybe you just…you shouldn’t think.”

Shouldn’t think.

Me.

Right.

Still.

Still, Kyoko hesitates.  Her gaze lowers again, and she reaches out to tentatively, gingerly place her hand atop Junko’s.  With her glove on, she can’t tell if Junko’s hand is still warm or if it’s grown cold; she only knows that it’s there, beneath hers.  Junko instinctively turns her hand beneath Kyoko’s and laces their fingers before giving her hand another gentle squeeze.  When Kyoko glances back up, Junko’s gaze is equally on their clasped hands; only a second later, she glances up and smiles awkwardly – but somehow encouragingly – at Kyoko as their eyes meet.

It’s enough.

Kyoko leans forward, hesitates again, and then notices how Junko’s eyes flutter closed, how she waits, expectant.

Then she kisses her.

Junko’s hand tightens on hers, so tight the sharp of her nails digging into her leather gloves causes her hand to ache, and Kyoko stops, afraid that she’s done something wrong.

“Kyokyo,” Junko murmurs, as she leans her forehead against hers, “that may be the absolute worst kiss I’ve ever had.”  A beat as Kyoko’s heart drops, and then that little laugh.  “Just kidding.”  She meets her eyes.  “So?  What did you think?” A corner of her lips twists into the barest hint of a grin.  She barely waits a heartbeat before specifying, “Interested?”

Kyoko moves from the mattress, so she doesn’t see how Junko’s gaze immediately falls when she doesn’t answer.  (Or if she does, she pretends otherwise.)  She walks to the other side of the room, stops just in front of the windows, and crosses her arms in the pool of light, wincing as she does.  It’s easier to try and consider how she feels with her back to Junko, easier to try and clear her mind when she’s looking anywhere but at her.

That doesn’t mean it helps.

“I….”

Laughter from outside the window, and Kyoko glances up just in time to see a girl with long pink twintails (like Junko’s, but longer, tamer) making kissing faces at a boy with soft blue hair (brighter than Junko’s eyes, unbroken with grey) as she races away from him on the playground.  The boy flushes bright red until another girl, this one in a wheelchair, rolls up next to him and takes his hand in hers.  Elementary school kids, passing just by Junko’s window, who seem to understand all of this more than Kyoko ever did.

Detectives are meant to examine the outside world; they aren’t meant to examine themselves.

Besides, the case – whichever case it may be – is more important than friends, than lovers, than family, so why would she ever allow herself to get hopelessly entangled in something like that when it would – and has – only ever caused her pain?

And yet.

The girl in the wheelchair glances up.

Kyoko meets her eyes, frowns, and then closes the shades, blocking her out.

Creepy.

“Kyoko?”

Now there’s fear in Junko’s voice.  Probably because she closed the shades.  She didn’t mean to—

“I don’t know.”  Kyoko presses her lips together so tight that she’s certain she’ll open the split in her lip again, certain if she licks them she’ll find blood.  “I…I don’t know.”

That’s the worst thing for a detective: not knowing.

“Oh,” Junko says, and then, “Oh,” again, much softer.

The despair within Junko’s voice alerts her to it, and Kyoko turns back to her, unblinking but confused.  “Wait,” she says, hushed.  “Are you….”  Her eyes narrow in suspicion.  “You aren’t interested in me, are you?”

Junko’s entire posture has changed in the brief moments Kyoko glanced out the window.  Her hands clasp together between her knees as she sits hunched over, and she swings her legs, heels hitting the bed twice.  “I don’t know,” she admits, head hanging, and gives another little shrug.  “With Yasuke leaving, and everything, I’ve just been so confused, and I thought maybe…maybe if you knew, then that would…that would be okay, either way.  If you knew, then I would know, you know?”  She glances up with a wry smile.  “Guess it didn’t work in my favor, huh?”

“I have an idea.”  The words are exact, specific, hesitant but clear all the same, and Kyoko sits next to Junko again, taking both of her hands in hers just the same way Junko’d done with her earlier.  “Why don’t you kiss me?  I’ve heard from a very impressive source that can help you figure out if you’re truly interested or not.”

Junko laughs.  “Oh, you have?  Where did you read that, in one of those fashion magazines?  They’re all lies, Kyokyo!  You shouldn’t read those things!  Even if – well, especially if I’m in them!”  She squeezes her hands and leans up to kiss her cheek.  “But thank you for trying to help.”

As soon as her lips brush against Kyoko’s skin, Kyoko blushes.  Her heartrate spikes.  “Maybe my source was…was wrong,” she finds herself saying, uncertain again, “but you’ll never know if you don’t try.”  She turns just enough to meet Junko’s eyes.  “So you should.  Try, that is.”

“Is that so?”  Junko searches Kyoko’s eyes.  “You won’t mind?”

Kyoko averts her gaze, finds that it falls on Junko’s lips, and then just as quickly glances back up.  “You’ll do a better job, I think.”

“Oh, of course I will.  I’m simply the best kisser.  That’s what all the magazines say, anyway!”  Then Junko’s brows shoot up.  “You sure you’re not just saying that because you want to tell all the girls that I, Junko Enoshima, the Ultimate Fashionista, kissed you?”

“Who would I tell?” Kyoko counters, certain of at least one thing in this whole conversation.  “You’re my best friend.  You are the one I’d tell.  And you’d already know.”

Junko makes a tsking sound.  “You’re supposed to say I don’t kiss and tell, Kyokyo.  You have learned nothing from all those movies.  Absolutely nothing—”

Kyoko squeezes her hands, and Junko grows quiet.  “Just….”  Her brows furrow.  “Just be gentle with me.”

Junko’s eyes glimmer with mirth, with amusement.  “Because it’s your first time?”

“No.”  Kyoko shoots her half a glare and then points to her lips.  “Because I still have a split lip, and I don’t want to bleed all over you if it opens up again.”

Junko’s gaze drops to Kyoko’s lips, following her gesture, murmurs, “Oh.  Right.”  She leans forward without thinking, then catches herself.  “Are you…”  She swallows, hard.  “Are you sure?” she asks, breath hot on Kyoko’s lips, so quiet she can barely hear it.  Her gaze gently lifts.

When Kyoko nods, her nose brushes against Junko’s.  She flinches.

But Junko brushes her nose against Kyoko’s in a gentle, needing movement, soft and warm all at once.  “It’s okay,” she purrs, hand lifting, fingers tracing along the skin at the nape of Kyoko's neck, and she smells like blue raspberries and lilac when her gaze flits back to Kyoko’s lips.  She starts to repeat, “It’s—”

Then she kisses her.

Kyoko short circuits.  She can’t think, and then she doesn’t know what to think, and then she decides that maybe thinking is not the right approach to this sort of thing (because it isn’t in so many of these sorts of situations), but thinking’s the thing she does best, so here she is, still thinking, because she doesn’t know how to shut it off.

But it’s not like there’s much active thinking to be had here.  Just small snapshots of things.  Like, for instance, the following:

This time is better.

It is, Kyoko knows it is, and it’s because exactly one of them has done this before and knows what she’s doing, and Junko might have been lying about what the magazines said about her kissing ability, but Kyoko wouldn’t know the difference.  She readily lets Junko take the lead.  It’s so much easier to focus on that than it is to focus on Junko’s hand cupping the back of her head, holding her gently in place (as though she would want to run from this).  She’d been afraid when Junko’s grip tightened on hers, but here she’s doing the exact same thing, her own hand holding so tightly to Junko’s, and when Junko parts her lips against hers, she follows suit, and then—

Then she stops.

Kyoko didn’t even realize her eyes were closed until she opens them, until she sees Junko’s blue-grey eyes so close to her own, the southern sky full of clouds just before a storm.  She searches them but finds nothing.  “…so?” she breathes out, unable to get the rest of the words out, breathless, unable to say anything more.

“Hm.”

That’s not promising.

Junko traces a finger along Kyoko’s chin.  Her head tilts to one side, and her eyes leave Kyoko’s to look down, examining her for a third time, for yet another reason, while Kyoko waits.  “No,” she finally murmurs, “I…I don’t think so.”  Her gaze returns to meet Kyoko’s.  Then she tugs her lip between her teeth; then she frowns.  “Sorry, Kyokyo.  I…I don’t think this will work out.  I’m sorry.”

Kyoko’s heart falls – harder this time, which doesn’t make any sense, because it’s not like she hoped for this.  It’s not like she’d known to want it.  She’s still not sure she does.

(She does.  She does.)

Then Junko grins, giddy with something, and says, just like before, “Just kidding,” only this time she’s still so close that her breath puffs hot against Kyoko’s lips again.  “Is that…is that okay?” she asks, suddenly shy and uncertain, eyes widening, searching Kyoko’s eyes, searching her.  “I know you weren’t sure, so if…so if it’s not, if you’re not, or if I was moving too fast for you, or something, then I can—”

It’s an instinct – and maybe this is what Junko means when she says that most people don’t think – when Kyoko stops her nervous rambling with a kiss.  She’s trying, but this is only the second time she’s ever kissed anyone, and she’s not the sort of person who’s spent time practicing with a pillow or a balloon or whatever because she’s never thought this would be something she did, so she knows it’s nothing like how Junko kissed her, not even close, it can’t be.

But Junko purrs against her lips and takes the lead again, but Junko’s fingers curl soft in her hair as she cradles the back of her head, but Junko’s hand moves to her waist and holds her steady just there, and Kyoko knows she’s chosen right.

Then Junko pauses, licks her lips, and hums.  “You taste like blood.”

[megalasaurus-rex]

As someone obsessed with Undertale, Deltarune, Omori, etc., I am constantly looking for indie games with similar vibes. The stylized pixelated art, meaningful choices, cute characters, and heartfelt messages for their audience. With this in mind, I would highly recommend the mobile game Afterplace. I usually wouldn’t recommend many mobile games, but this one was just made with so much heart. I hardly see anyone talk about it, but it has really stuck with me.

The game opens in a very Undertale-esque manner; the MC falls and lands in a pile of flowers in an unknown world. You are given a quick combat tutorial, and sent on your way. The game’s map is maze-like, and holds numerous hidden areas to discover and explore. The music is charming, with a sort of vintage video game feel from the almost vinyl record sound they hold. The game also saves automatically, so even if you have to take a call or close the app for some reason, you won’t lose any progress.

The cast of characters is rather small, but they worm their way into your heart immediately. From Clover, to Gramps, to Foxy, you’ll find adorable, but complex friends around every corner.

There’s a sweet variety of vibes in the game as well. There are open meadows and serene lakes for the whole peaceful, animal crossing vibe, but there’s also an abandoned, half-buried library, and a terrifying forbidden forest.

And while the game doesn’t have the same variety of endings my other favorite games have, there are a couple different endings you can get based on how well you explored the world. If you don’t explore it to its fullest extent, there are plot lines that won’t get wrapped up, or character arcs that won’t be fully realized. The game does seem to lack a certain amount of direction, as you don’t have a super clear quest log, and a lot of plot-relevant things can be a bit difficult to locate. But being forced to explore every corner of the world is one of the draws imo.

As of now, January of ‘24, the game only costs $7 on IOS. I binged it the first time in a little more than a weekend, and the game has IMMENSE replay value once you have unlocked its secrets.

I actually learned about the game through an Instagram story Griffin McElroy posted, recommending it. So if you don’t want to take my word for it, take his.

The link to the game’s official website: https://afterplacegame.com/simple.html

[softsnzstuff]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KING JULIEN, WE LOVE YOU KING JULIEN!!

*A birthday ficlet for the bestie @dontfeeltoohot based on our insta RP group chats lately*

It started - and ended - with Eddie. A few weeks ago he’d gotten knocked on his ass with some bug, leaving him with a fever and too tired to even play video games.

It very quickly spread to Nancy, Robin, and finally Steve. Just when they’d thought they were past the worst, Eddie caught it again off of Steve.

“Eddie let me take your temperature!” Steve called out.

“No!” He had locked himself in the bathroom with their cat, Nox.

Eddie occasionally brought pillows into the bathtub to hide out when he was in a bad mood, or in this case, not feeling well.

“H’eKSHh’EW! Hih- iKSHhuh! HesshIEW!”

This time around, the bug had manifested as the worst headcold Eddie had ever had.

“Eddie come on, you’ve been sneezing like that all day!”

Eddie snuffled against his wrist from behind the door, “I k’dow that!”

He picked up his phone and texted the group chat.

E: Send help! Steve won’t leave me alone 😩

S: I’m trying to take his temperature. He locked himself in the bathroom with Nox

E: Someone come hang out with me in the bathtub please?

R: What’s in it for me?

E: Gummy worms and Nox cuddles

R: …. Okay be there in ten

***

Steve opened the door to their apartment to let Robin and Nancy in. Nancy went to sit with Steve on the sofa while Robin went straight to their pantry for the sour gummy worms.

Eddie unlocked the bathroom door for her. He stepped back into the tub, holding out a hand to help her in as well.

Fully clothed, they sat sideways, feet dangling out the side with pillows behind and under them. Eddie had even brought a blanket.

Nox mewed and head butted Robin’s arm as she opened the gummy worms.

“Hey girlie, want some worms too?”

Eddie put his arm around Robin as she pet Nox.

“Thanks for coming Birdie. Steves been snFF fussing over me all day. Needed a bhhh break…”

He turned to the side, bringing an arm up to his face.

“Eh’SHhiew! kssshEW! H’aSSH’ew!!”

“Bless you.” Robin patted his knee, “Steve means well. Just wants to help because he cares.”

“I k’dow… I’m just n’dot used to- H’aeKSHh’ew!” He groaned and leaned a head on Robin’s shoulder, sniffling soupily.

There was a knock on the door.

“Eddie? Can I come in please?”

Robin turned, grinning at the predictability of Steve, but Eddie was preoccupied with his nose.

“eh’TSHhh! Hih-eKSHh’iew! Kt’chEW!”

Robin shook her head. “It’s open Steve!”

The brunette poked his head in, eyes directly going to the fort made out of their bathtub. Nox ran out the door as soon as she got the chance, making room for Steve to come in.

“Eddie. You sound awful. Please let me take care of you. You can come join me and Nance on the couch.”

“Fine.” Eddie held out a hand for Steve to help him out of the bathtub.

Robin clambered out behind him, grabbing some of the pillows and gummy worms to come with them. Nancy was sitting in the middle of the couch. Robin and Steve sat on either side of her and Eddie lay across all of their laps, feet by Steve and head by Robin. She fiddled with his hair until he fell asleep.

“Finally, oh my god!” Steve sighed with relief, “I just wanted him to rest. You guys might be stuck here for a couple hours though.”

The girls laughed. “Couldn’t imagine a better way to spend our time.”

[sydtaxerror]

HOLOctober day 3: Purgatory

Day 3 of doing a hololive writing challenge for October using a custom prompt list. This ones a pretty light-hearted Silent Hill 2 parody starring Bae and Irys. No real gore or content warnings. I wish I could change my clocks and then wasurebeam myself because my ADHD-addled brain refuses to start writing until its convinced we just barely have enough time to get it done before we pass out. Whats worse is so far its been right.

Day 3: Purgatory

Bae woke up in a padded cell. Its walls were stained dull with age and rot. She groaned, “Not again. What did I do last night?” Etched above a heavy, rusted iron door, were the words “Thou Shalt Not Be a Borrower.” 

“Okayu-senpai? Is that you? You can’t just kidnap people, senpai! You know I’m good for it!” Bae first tried the door, which was locked, then pounded her fists against it. “How am I supposed to get your diamonds in here!” Frustrated, she looked around the room and noticed something she hadn’t before. A small asterisk-shaped opening in the wall, with the words “take one for the team” written above it. 

“Oh, absolutely not.” She began pounding on the door again. “I won’t do it, senpai. I’ll wait here ‘til I die!” After only a few minutes she got bored and approached the hole again. “Frick it.” She slowly slid her arm in, “eww, why is it warm?” Her fingers contacted something and she withdrew it, peaking through the fingers of her other hand, she was relieved to notice it was just a key. She unlocked the door and entered a long hallway filled with similar doors leading to similar cells. She heard a strange sliding sound coming from the other end of the hallway, a creature emerged from the shadows. It was a large shaft ambulating on two large spheres attached to its base. “A peen!? Mane-chan is that you? Is this an elaborate bonk?” 

Without an answer Bae lifted her hand and dice appeared between each pair of fingers and thumb, she threw all four, “perish!” One die bounced off it harmlessly, another cut through it like a knife through butter leaving it with a perfectly square hole near its base but otherwise unharmed. The third missed entirely, clattering to the floor and promptly becoming a potted plant. Luckily the fourth exploded, obliterating the peen and both sides of the hallway. She looked down the hall and saw multiple peens shuffling around. “Nope.” She leapt out the window, rolling down a long hill. Standing up and straightening her clothes, she found herself in a small, foggy, town. “I don’t think this is Neko Neko island” 

She found herself walking through a park and found a familiar nephilim wearing a very unfamiliar outfit, including a leopard print skirt. She was horizontal on the ground, making strange grunts and motions that resemble the worm but sideways. “I’m glad someone else is here but what on earth are you doing Irys, there’s peens around!” She reached a hand out and the mysterious nephilim took it, responding “who’s Irys? Never heard of her. My name is…” she gave Bae a sultry wink, “Yabairys.” 

Bae narrowed her eyes. “Ok. That's fine. Everything is fine. I don’t care anymore.” She looked back at the nephilim.  “You know that skirts like, way longer than your usual dress right? Much less Yabai?”

“This is my usual outfit, Bae. Who I’ve never met before.” Bae walked past her, refusing to acknowledge the response. A short while later they heard a muffled voice in one of the buildings, a bowling alley. Bae started toward the door, bracing herself emotionally for some fresh new hell, but noticed Yabairys was standing still with her arms crossed. “What are you doing Irys, we need to see who that is. Probably.”

“Its YABAIrys. And you can go in alone, I hate bowling. I’ll wait out here.”

“You hate…we’re not going bowling. We’re just going to see who that is! You’re going to wait out here with the peens because you hate bowling?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever, suit yourself.”

As Bae entered the bowling alley Yabairys yelled, “this is the worst date I’ve ever been on!”

Bae entered the bowling alley and was surprised to find Korone sitting at a table eating a Pizza. As Bae approached her Korone yelled out, “PIZZA TIME,” startling Bae. “Um yeah, I see that Korone-senpai, whatcha doing here? You know there’s peens around right?” 

“I love Pepperoni Pizza.”

Bae tried to switch to Japanese but found that, other than yabai and senpai for some reason, it came out as slightly janky english. 

“I love PEPPERONI PIZZA,” Korone responded.

“Look, hard same, but there’s monsters, Irys has lost her mind, I had to put my arm in a…we gotta get outta here!” 

Suddenly a large buff rat wearing a paper crown crashed through the wall, turning it to rubble.  He was dragging an over-sized diamond pickaxe behind him and started to charge forward. Bae yelled out, “It's a Brat-king!” and tried to reach for Korone’s hand to drag her away, but Korone had already leapt from one of the tables and crossed most of the room. She slid to a stop directly in front of the Brat king, bending her knees slightly before launching into a flying upper-cut with a mighty “Orayo!” The brat king was thrown up through the rough, ending up stuck halfway. He flailed for a while trying to get loose then gave up, limbs hanging limply through the roof. 

“Huh. That seems like it probably saved us a lot of trouble.” Korone, for her part, just sat back down and continued eating her pizza. Bae glanced back and forth between the two a few times before shrugging. “I guess you’ve got it under control. Enjoy your pizza senpai!” As she walked out she heard a quiet voice say, “I am justice.” 

Yabairys scowled as Bae returned to the street. “Finally had enough bowling? I can’t believe you just left me out here.”

“I wasn’t…you wanted to…” Bae closed her eyes in frustration and took a deep breath, “You know what? Yes. I’ve finally had enough bowling. Good to go.”

“Good, because its my turn to pick where we go, and we’re going to the love hotel.” She pointed to the top of the hill where a large hotel had appeared. Bae was pretty sure neither the hill nor the hotel had been in that spot earlier but she refused to comment. “I think that's just a regular hotel.” 

“Not if it was made with love.”

Bae looked at the rundown old hotel. “I don’t think it was. It looks like it was built with cheap lumber…and capitalism. That's like the opposite of love.”

“You just don’t understand romance.” Yabairys began dragging her up the hill.

As soon as they crossed the threshold of the hotel, a diamond pickaxe swung through one of the walls and the Brat king started chasing them. They ran for an open elevator the opposite direction down the opposite hallway but just before they reached it Yabairys tripped. Bae pressed the button for the top floor then spammed the close door button but Yabairys managed to lunge forward just as it closed, freezing the elevator in place. Yabairys was trapped between the doors but unharmed.

“Oh no!” Yabairys squirmed between the doors “I’m stuck step-Bae, help!”

Bae looked down on her, literally and figuratively. “Why are you so calm?” She looked through the gap in the door and saw the Brat king just standing around. He gave her a small wave. Bae screamed, “are you two working together! Is he a shipper!?” 

“What!?! No!”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Bae stepped on Yabairys’ head and used it as a boost to climb to the elevator’s emergency hatch. “I’m out of here.” She scampered through the hatch then hung from the elevator cable long enough to poke her head back through the hatch and announce, “I want a divorce” before climbing the cable to the top floor. She entered a wide, empty room, a single cloaked figure stood leaning on a windowsill at the end of the room. They were faced away from her. Bae crouched, grabbing a lead pipe and slowly moving towards them. “I wish you wouldn’t.” Calli turned and lowered her hood. 

“Calli!?”

“Sup.”

“Is it really you? You’re not all weird?”

“I mean, maybe a little I guess but I think I’m pretty chill, mostly.”

Bae launched at her and gave her a big hug, tears in her eyes. “Its really you, I’m so glad I’m not alone.”

Calli let her cry for a second then patted her on the back, “seems like you’ve been through a lot, need any help?”

“Yes, definitely. But first, what are you doing here. I think we’re in some kind of weird hell.”

“What are you doing here Bae. This isn’t a hell, its a purgatory, they’re like underworld Florida.”

“I think its got something to do with owing Okayu a bunch of diamonds.”

“Huh. Okaaay. Well, you can have some of mine I guess.”

Bae hugged her again. “You’re the best.” 

“Lemme give you a lift home.” Calli held her arm out the window and in a burst of pink flame her scythe appeared in it. She let it drop and it continued to hover, she climbed out the window and sat on it side-saddle. 

“Your scythe can fly!?”

Calli offered her hand, rolling her eyes “All scythes can fly Bae. Ready to go?”

Bae took it and climbed on, “I think so, but I feel like I’m forgetting something.”

Calli leaned forward and the scythe began to accelerate away. “If you forgot it, it wasn’t important.

Hours later a voice is heard, screaming from an elevator shaft: “Step-Bae? Step-Bae!? Step-Baeeeeeee!”