#chapter 1 relation and functions

[seospicybin]

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE.

ROUND 2

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 1

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen. (10,3k words)

Author's note: I just thought that we need to play another round. Hope you had fun reading this x

Content warning: Infidelity.

Let's play another round of two truths and a lie where Minho shares three things about him and you have to guess which one is the lie.

Here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen.

That's the first thing Kim told you about Minho, he is good in the kitchen and that explains why you often find him in there, cooking meals or something his girlfriend, Kim, asked him to make, sometimes it's something as simple as fried rice to something as complex as beef wellington, he can do it all. In conclusion, his cooking skill is unquestionable.

Just like this morning, the first thing you see as you come out of your bedroom is Minho making something in the kitchen. Before he notices, you slowly tiptoe your way back to your bedroom and reach for the doorknob to—

"Morning!" Kim cheerily says as she comes out of her bedroom.

You instantly turn around on your feet and pretend that you've just come out of your bedroom. From her attire, you can tell that she's going for her morning run.

"Morning, Kim!" You say back with a smile, "Going for a run?"

"Yep. Minho is making pancakes," she answers as she ties her hair into a ponytail, "Have to burn some calories so I can eat more calories."

As a dancer, Kim diligently watches her weight but instead of getting on a rigorous diet, she prefers working out even though her job, dancing, is also working out, and she only spoils herself with a sweet treat on the weekend. She's heading to the kitchen to give Minho a quick peck on the lips and then puts her headphones on.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," she says before walking out the door.

Leaving you and Minho alone in the apartment is not a good idea but how can she know when you've been doing things behind her back?

Since he's already seen you, you may as well start your day, by going to the kitchen and getting yourself a cup of coffee, you just need to get the milk from the fridge, then you'll be out of Minho's way.

As you keep the fridge door open to put the milk back inside, Minho appears behind you and reaches for a carton of eggs from the fridge, his forearm brushes your waist as he retracts his hand.

You quickly step away and take the other end of the kitchen counter, stirring your coffee with a spoon while looking at the weather outside, at the sunlit clouds drifting across a clear blue sky.

"Can you hand me the sugar?" Minho points at the bowl of sugar in your reach.

"Sure," you say, picking it up and placing it on the kitchen counter next to him.

You're going to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a small sip of your coffee, you can sense the caffeine works to bring your brain to function. At the same time, your sense heightens that you know Minho is coming behind you to put the jar of sugar back into its place.

However, when he retracts his arm, his hand stays on your waist and it stays there, making you wonder what he's trying to do next so you turn your head to the side.

In the blink of an eye, Minho quickly captures your lips in a kiss and wraps his arms tightly around you. Your body is quick to respond to it but your brain is working at a sluggish pace.

By the time your brain catches up to it and tells you to stop, Minho already has his hand under your camisole and fondles at your breast.

"Minho..." you whine against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes, "What?"

It's at the tip of your tongue and your mouth is open but no words coming out of it. Deep down, you know you want it and you don't want it to stop.

Instead of saying what you want out loud, you curve your arm around his neck and pull his head close for a kiss, picking it up and taking it up a notch.

With his free hand, Minho pushes your camisole upward, sending it hunched around your chest and exposing your breasts to the cool morning air.

He wastes no time to freely cup your breast in his hand and he likes how it fits him right, making him think that they were made just for him.

There's not much room for you to move with his arms firmly wrapped around you but when his hand glides down to cup your clothed sex, you start to push back against him and feel his bulge growing behind you.

Your common sense comes in ebbs and flows, and when it finally hits you, you suddenly pull his hand out of your shorts and break away from his hold.

"Kim will be back soon," you remind him with your voice tinted with concern.

Minho puts his hands on each side of your waist and makes you lean against the kitchen counter, "She won't be back for a while," he calmly says.

He then buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, peeling back the layers of worry off of you with every kiss he planted there.

All of a sudden, you find the guts to put your hands on his chest and push him a little too hard it sends him staggering a couple of steps to the back.

No matter how far you push him away, your body wants to be as close as possible to him. You find yourself walking back to him and taking your turn to corner him against the kitchen counter.

He's wearing this plain white t-shirt but gosh, it looks good on him and you like it even more when you can trace the muscles on his body through the fabric.

"But we don't know for sure," you say, leaning in for a kiss which he eagerly returns and makes him ask for more.

However, it's the grey sweatpants he's wearing that make you lose your mind a little. It's unclear whether it's the fabric or the color or the style of the pants that somehow accentuate the shape of his cock, or the way he walks around in the apartment in it and unaware of what it does to you.

You quietly pull his sweatpants low enough to let his member free out of its confine and without looking, your hand knows what it's looking for and immediately wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"For all we know, she may be back in a few minutes," you say against his lips.

Minho is engrossed in how you're slowly stroking his cock as you speak, it takes him a while to respond to your question.

"She won't," he assures you, pulling you close by the waist and putting his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"She's been gone for fifteen minutes now," you say before he has your lips locked with his again.

"Then we just have to make it quick," he simply resolves, lifting you by the waist, and swiftly, he turns around on his feet to sit you on the counter.

As a dancer, he is trained to lift his partner and he does it seamlessly as if he's lifting a piece of paper. Well, he has the muscles to prove his years-long dance training.

"Minho, we can't," you say as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Instead of stopping him from coming at your breasts, you hold them up for him so he can take them into his mouth.

He sucks on the flesh hard that you wince in pain and he lets go with a satisfied grin, "we definitely can," he coyly disagrees.

"What I'm saying is—" you pause as he parts your legs open, sending you leaning to the back and you quickly prop a hand to support you.

Minho tugs his hands at the elastic band of your pajama shorts and thinking of taking it off of you, you scramble to stop him.

"Just put it to the side," you tell him.

He obeys your words, putting the shorts along with your underwear to the side. He delightfully sighs at the sight of your heating core and he uses his fingers to feel how wet you are for him.

"I can't stop when you're this wet for me," he mutters as he swipes your lips with his fingers coated with your essence, then shoves it into his mouth next.

Feeling challenged to do the same, you lick your lips and get a taste of you on your tongue, you taste so sinfully sweet as the kiss he's about to plant on you.

While his lips keep you busy with kisses, Minho aligns his cock with your entrance, he rubs his tip between your folds then with a slow push, he starts to enter you.

The kiss breaks as the two of you shift your focus on how his cock pushing its way inside you. You spread your legs as wide as possible and watch as his cock is slowly disappearing into you.

Minho curves his hands around you and then glides them down until his hands meet the curve of your ass, he pulls you close, seeking closeness as he's about to fully bottomed out inside you.

"And I can't stop when you feel this good," he says as he crashes his lips against yours again.

The room soon filled with your low moans combined with the sounds of his hips against the back of your thighs. His nails dig into the flesh as he steadily keeps your legs open for him.

Even with your brain clouded with pleasure, a slight of fear comes creeping up in you and makes you keep looking to the side, in the direction of the foyer, and the fact that Kim can come in any minute now.

"Minho," you breathlessly call in between your moans.

You continue talking when you have his attention by putting your hand on his neck, "We can't keep doing this to Kim."

"I know," he says with a small nod, "it's unfair to her."

And it's unfair how he tries to take your mind away from things by suddenly adding intensity to his thrusts and going as shallow as possible inside you.

"Uh-huh, it's unfair," you repeat your words, suddenly losing all the words in your head.

Minho pulls you even closer until you're sitting on the edge of the counter while keeping the pace steady, he lets go of your legs and wraps his arms around you instead. He looks down at his cock slipping in and out of you then when his eyes find you, he intensely stares into your eyes as if he dares you to try to stop him again.

The truth is you're just a human who tends to make the same mistakes and above all that, you're just a girl who wants what she wants and in this moment, you want nothing else but him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens as you come to your climax, your moans turn into breathless whines and you bury your head in his neck.

Yet Minho keeps going and chasing for his high as your walls pulsate and flutter around him, all of those stimulations combined with the fear that Kim may walk in on you and him doing it in the kitchen only arouses him more.

"Don't cum inside," you whisper into his ear.

Now that you said it, it only makes him want to do it and he plans on ignoring those words.

You crumple the front of his t-shirt in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes, "Minho, you can't cum inside," you warn again.

Hearing the urgency in your voice, Minho refrains from doing it and wisely follows your words.

"Where do you want it then?" He asks, suddenly getting curious about your answer.

"My mouth," you shortly answer because it's the only way to make sure to leave no trace of this abomination. No trace means you can pretend that this never happened.

Minho stops moving for a second, unsure if he heard you right. You put your hand on his neck and say again, "You can cum in my mouth."

What you said seems to trigger something inside of him that he continues thrusting into you harder and faster, not caring that you've just cum around him a while ago which only make you even more sensitive than before.

You let him have it because this is the only way you know that'll bring him closer to his release. Also, you don't know how long this has been going on but you know that you don't have much left before Kim comes back.

All of a sudden, Minho puts his arms around your waist and steadily hoists you against him. You immediately wrap your legs around him and your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh..." a raw groan escapes his mouth as he lets go just a little and feels his cock deepens inside you as you cling to him.

The two of you stay still like that for a moment, encased in endless pleasure and palpable desire for each other that it feels like the slightest movement would break the spell.

Sadly, time isn't on your side.

You slowly let go of your hold around him, forcing Minho to put you down gently until your feet touch the floor and eventually, he has to pull out of you, making you feel the sudden emptiness.

You kneel on the floor as he incessantly pumps his cock to keep the stimulation going. You can see his cock, all red and veiny inches away from your eyes as you offer your mouth for him to dump his load.

Seeing him from this point of view surely feels new to you but not less arousing, you can see his forehead wrinkled with how much he focuses on chasing his release.

The most arousing part is the way he's looking down on you, seeing how much you want his cum in your mouth and he's the only one who can give it to you.

"Wider," he murmurs through his gritted teeth.

Also added is the fact that he is someone's boyfriend, oh, everything about it is arousing you so much that your hand flies to your cunt, touching yourself as you obey his word. While maintaining eye contact with him, you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out a little, waiting for him to shoot his load on you like a bitch in heat.

The second his cum spurts out of his tip and lands on you, you gasp at how hot it feels on your skin. You close your eyes and keep your mouth open as more of his cum gets on your tongue, your lips, and all over your mouth.

Using the tip of his sock, Minho smears his pearly white cum all over your lips, tempting you to put it into your mouth and of course, you cave into the temptation. You give his tip a few kitten licks before taking his length little by little, you compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand.

"Oh..." he delightfully sighs with his head thrown back.

To see him fully indulging in it and hearing him moaning on pleasure encourages you to keep going, sucking him hard and syncing it with the pumping of your hand around the base of his cock.

"Oh, yes, keep going," he mutters to you with his voice soft and sultry.

He puts his hand in your hair and tugs at it, using it to angle your head slightly to the back to provide him more depth as he gently pushes a little more of his cock into your mouth.

"Fu..." his profanity trails off and turns into a breathless moan as he slowly begins thrusting his cock in and out of you.

You're aware that he's using your mouth for his pleasure and you don't mind any of it, if anything, it makes you want to touch yourself more. You allow yourself to do just that, rubbing on your clothed clit as Minho is fucking your mouth.

"Mmh..." you moan with your mouth full of his hot, swollen flesh.

"Oh, you and your fucking mouth," he mutters with a low breath, his eyes intently watching how you're taking every thrust of his cock into your mouth.

For a split second, you forget about Kim until you hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing. You're about to pull out but Minho's grip on the back of your head forces you to remain still.

Your heart starts pounding inside your chest as you hear her footsteps coming closer and she stops just on the other side of the counter where you remain hidden on this side with her boyfriend's cock deep in your throat.

"Oh, it's so hot today," Kim says, still panting from running. You hear her pouring water into a glass and then the sounds of her heartily gulping it.

Minho remains calm and puts his free hand on the counter, "Yeah, you sweat a lot, honey," he says.

There's a low thud of what you assume coming from Kim putting her glass down, "And where are my pancakes?"

"I want it to be hot when you're having it," he simply answers.

"Well then, I'm going to wash my face, and my hands and I'll be ready for pancakes," Kim says.

You can only imagine how she smiles brightly at him when she said it, oblivious to the fact that her roommate is sucking her boyfriend's cock as she speaks.

"They better be good," she adds as she walks away.

You start to relax when you hear her footsteps receding, then you hear the sound of the door being opened and then closed after.

Minho finally lets go of his dead grip on the back of your head and you immediately pull out, a little too fast that you choke on your saliva, sending you into a coughing fit.

You rise from the floor, fixing your clothes as you head to the sink to wipe the mess on your mouth with the running water.

It has just sunken into you of what you did with Minho, the guilt hits you like a ton of brick and it tastes bitter on your tongue no matter how much you rinse it with water.

"Are you okay, babe?" Kim asks you as she comes into the kitchen.

Her presence makes you choke on water this time, you grab a bunch of tissues from the box and wipe your mouth with it.

"I'm okay," you answer, "I'm just choked on something."

Without looking, you can feel Minho's sly smirk from across the kitchen counter. It's best if you exclude yourself from this to avoid any slips out.

"Where are you going?" Kim asks you, she drags a stool and pats it, "Come sit and eat pancakes with me!"

"No, I have something—"

"What do you possibly need to do on a Sunday morning?" She asks with a pout.

"Come on, take a seat!" She says, excitedly patting the seat and inviting you to sit next to her.

If you persist on leaving, she'll only get suspicious of you so you relent, sitting on the stool next to her while holding your cup of coffee.

On the other hand, Minho did his part too well. He acts like nothing happened and successfully makes pancakes for both you and Kim.

"You want cream with that, honey?" He asks Kim but his eyes wander your way for a second.

"No, thank you," Kim politely refuses, "but I'll have the syrups."

Minho wastes no time to get it for her from the kitchen cabinet and gives it to her. He then takes a tube of whipped cream and gives it a shake.

"Extra cream for you then," he says to you as he places creams on top of your pancakes and flashes you a faint smirk that only you can see.

Unable to respond to it with words, you stab the pancakes with your fork and have a bite at it, hate to admit it but it tastes good.

Well then this makes the first statement a truth: Minho is indeed good in the kitchen.

-

This is it, you say in your head as the bell in your head goes ding!

The apartment may be much smaller than Kim's but it has everything you need, a bedroom, an adequate space to be called a living room, and a fully functioning kitchen. The only downside is it's a farther commute to work but the affordable rent makes up for it and that's the most important thing.

"Are you going to take it?" Gaspard asks as he floats through the crowd like a divine being among mortals.

"I have to take it," you answer while trying to keep up with his long strides, "It's the best offer."

"I think so too," he says, putting his arm around you so you don't stray away from him.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Cause then you'll be living only a few blocks away from me."

"Oh? You know what? I change my mind," you jokingly say, turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" He holds you back and steers you to the right way by the shoulders, "No turning back now!'

About a week ago, you made it very clear to Gaspard that you want to stay as good friends with him but it's easy to tell that he still believes this can be more than that. That leads you to act careful around him because you're scared that he's mistaken it for something else.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?" He playfully asks as you both stand outside the apartment building.

"Better luck next time," You joke back with a gentle push on his chest.

"Not even for a can of beer?" He sweetly blinks his eyes at you in the hope that will be enough to persuade you.

"Just one!" You cave in because he's been helping you with the apartment hunting and you've been walking around since this afternoon until the day turns dark.

"Just one," he repeats your words in agreement.

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

The apartment is empty because Kim and Minho are out on a date which makes it a convenient time to enjoy a cold drink after a day's hard work.

"Where's Kim?" Gaspard asks as you join him on the sofa.

"I think they're going to the movies or something," you mindless answer, you couldn't care less about what they're doing on a date.

The two of you get quiet after taking a long gulp of beer and gasp at how refreshing it is like you didn't just have it with dinner earlier.

"I reckon you're going to break the news to Kim soon?" Gaspard asks as he leans back on the sofa with his head turned at you.

"Well... yeah," you meekly answer and it reminds you how of you're not ready for that part yet.

"How do you think she'll react?" He asks as he secretly puts his arm around your shoulders.

"I don't know," you sigh, then take a sip of your beer, "I just hope that she knows that the reason has nothing to do with her."

"What's the reason then?" Gaspard asks for the first time and seems to be genuinely curious about the answer.

It feels like you're trapped by your own words, you know the reason but you can't tell him or anyone for that matter.

"Because I want to live close to you," you decide to risk getting it mistaken for something else instead of letting him in on the answer.

With the hand around your shoulders, Gaspard easily pulls you close until you're sitting elbow to elbow and bumping knees with him on the sofa.

"Have I told you you looked beautiful today?" He seduces you as he's brushing your hair to the side.

"Not enough," you jokingly answer.

Gaspard leans in to whisper it to you right into your ear, "You're so beautiful," he mutters then kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you," you sweetly say with a smile.

Catching you off guard, he places one more kiss on the other cheek and pulls away with a big smile on his face. Well, you've done your part to spare him from the disappointment so it's not your fault that he puts himself back on the track for it.

"You promised it was going to be just one beer," you scold him along with a sassy eye roll.

"And I'm not finished with my beer yet," he cleverly answers.

The front door flies open and Kim comes into sight, finding you and Gaspard snuggling close together on the sofa. She smiles at you and puts down her bag on the dining table.

"What do we have here?" She asks with a sly smile.

"Nothing. We're just drinking beers," you calmly answer while quietly putting a safe space between you and Gaspard on the sofa.

"Yeah, I'm just here for one beer," Gaspard says, emphasizing the amount of beer with a sly grin flashed your way.

"And he'll leave soon," you add, returning the sly grin to him.

Taking this as a sign to give you privacy so you can break the news to Kim, Gaspard says, "And I'm leaving."

"No. Stay," Kim says as she sits on the sofa next to you.

"I can only bother you this much, Kim," he jokingly says and comes at you for a hug, "I'll see my way out."

"Thanks for today," you say as you hug him back.

You wait until Gaspard leaves to talk to Kim about what you did today and that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon. You finish your beer to fuel your courage and quietly exhale air to calm yourself down.

"Kim, I need to talk to you about something," you start.

Kim brushes her long dark hair and rests it on her shoulder like a waterfall, "Mmh? What is it?" She asks.

Now, that you have her attention and no one else is here except for the two of you, this is the right time to tell her. You open your mouth and plan to just give it to her all at once until Minho comes through the front door.

"Where do you want me to put it?" He asks Kim, showing the plastic bag he's carrying in his hand.

"Can you put them in the fridge for me, honey?" Kim answers.

"Sure," he shortly answers, going to the kitchen to do what Kim asked him to do.

"I ran out of my fiber drinks," she says, explaining what she made Minho bought for her.

"Ah, I see..." you meekly respond, losing every word you've been carefully arranging in your head so you abort the plan to tell her about the apartment situation.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" She asks with a soft smile on her face, making you feel even more disheartened to tell her.

"Oh, I..." you feel tempted to just let it all out but your eyes keep uneasily glancing at Minho and you don't want him there to hear it.

"I forgot what I'm trying to say to you. Sorry," you lie and add a foolish laugh to convince her.

Kim seems to buy it as she cracks a laugh and gently slaps your knee, "You silly!"

"I'll tell you once I remember it," you say to her.

Or more like, when Minho isn't around.

-

Two days have passed with Kim is still oblivious that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon.

You always missed each other's timing, when you had the time, Kim was in a hurry to go to the academy and when she was alone at home, you were working late that night. It's like a mysterious force trying to hold you back from telling her the truth.

When you came home from work tonight, you found Kim eating dinner alone in the kitchen. To make sure that Minho isn't around or coming unannounced like usual, you simply ask why she is by herself when her boyfriend always drives her home and usually stays to have dinner together.

"Minho's car broke down so I took a taxi home," Kim answers with a low sigh.

"Oh, that's upsetting," you keep your expression in check as you say it, not risking Kim catching you turn his misfortune into an opportunity.

"It's about time he sends his car to the shop anyway," Kim says.

It's unethical to interrupt her in the middle of her dinner so you carefully pick your timing and wait until she's done with her dinner to talk.

You grab a can of juice from the fridge and take a seat next to her, "Kim, can I talk to you about something?" you hesitantly say.

"Sure, babe," she says, putting down her glass of water then stacks her hands together on the dining table, "What is it?"

"A week ago, I found a suitable apartment not far from Gaspard's. It's not as big as this..." you gulp air to be able to continue talking, "It's in a nice neighborhood and the rent is affordable so I'm thinking of moving in there."

A moment passes in silence as Kim processes your words, her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her glass and tapping at it.

"You want to move out?" She asks as the glints in her eyes slightly dim.

"Yes," you hesitantly say.

"I reckon it's about time that I get my own place," you hurriedly add the number one reason why you want to move out so she doesn't think that it has anything to do with her.

"It's not because of me, right?" She meekly asks.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I love being your roommate but you know... I can't stay here forever. I eventually have to move out."

"Nonsense! You definitely can stay here forever," Kim remarks as she grabs your hand on your lap.

You put your hand on hers and softly smile at her, "I'd love to but..."

You can't keep living with her knowing you've been betraying her and the guilt is eating you alive from the inside as you speak? You continue in your head.

"It's either now or later, it's something that I have to do," you settle on a reasonable answer.

"That's true," Kim weakly says, looking a little taken aback by your announcement.

"I'm sorry if this is so sudden. I didn't mean to keep it this long, we were so busy these past few days that I only got the chance to tell you now," you explain with utmost sincerity.

Kim nods and puts on a smile for you, "it's okay. I understand."

Your heart is getting heavy the more you talk, you'd better end it before the guilt gets to you and you're giving it the chance to crawl out of you. You grab your purse, rummaging through the content for the envelope you've been putting aside and planning to give to Kim.

"This is for this month's rent," you hand the envelope straight into her hand.

She folds it in half and puts the envelope back into your hand, "Take it. You need it for moving and buying stuff for your new apartment.

"No, Kim. I can't. It's yours!" You forcefully put it back into her hand but she balls her hand into a fist.

"Consider this as an early housewarming gift," she insists, holding your hand down to make you stop giving the envelope back to her.

"Kim, no... I shouldn't—" You sigh in defeat, having no other way to make her accept your money.

"I'm going to miss you," Kim's voice cracks, and the next thing you know, she's hugging you so tightly that you can feel how much she meant her words.

"Oh, Kim, you can't get rid of me yet," you playfully say to lighten up the mood, "at least, for the next three weeks."

This is why you have to move out soon, Kim is too kind and all you do in return is use her kindness to fool her and stab her in the back, you've been treating her like a shit friend, and you feel sick have to keep doing that to her.

-

This is statement number two: Minho knows that he's the reason why.

There's this gut feeling that something is going to happen. This could be just a reaction to the change you'll face soon, new apartment, new neighborhood, there'll be no Kim, and the realization that you'll do everything on your own at that point.

It's scary and exciting, you feel a little bit of both at times. One thing that always lingers inside you is this slight fear that Minho possibly knows he's the reason why you decide to move out.

A week went by and you can safely assume that Kim must have told Minho about the apartment situation. You swear you're not expecting anything at all from Minho, but he's been strangely normal and taciturn which only confirms that something is actually off about him.

You should be taking this as an advantage because then you wouldn't have to interact with him and fewer interactions lead to you making fewer mistakes with him.

Work has been keeping you busy too that you haven't had the chance to pack your things. When you come home late tonight, Kim is already sleeping and you don't want to bother her by the sound of you shoving your things into boxes.

Well, you still have a week left anyway to sort your things out and you're tired from work, you hurriedly make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

In the midst of it, you hear the knocking on the door and your first thought is that Kim must be in urgency to use the bathroom.

"Kim?" You call but there's no answer

You turn off the shower and put on a bathrobe, you carefully walk as water drips down your body and hair to open the door.

"Is that you..." your words trail off as you see who's coming into the bathroom and it's not Kim.

There was no sign that Minho was in the apartment when you walked in because you could tell from the sight of his shoes in the foyer or his bag that sits in the living room so unless he has the ability to become invisible, it means that he came just now to the apartment.

Gosh! You tried so hard to avoid temptation and now it's coming to get you. You're clutching your bathrobe together and head to the door.

"You can use the bathroom," you say without looking at him.

He grabs you by the elbow to stop you from leaving, he pulls you hard enough that your body crashes against him, then wraps his arms around you.

"I heard you're moving out," he says.

You break away from his hold and put his hands away from you, "not your business," you say.

Minho is quick to catch your hands by the wrist then he folds them together behind your back, making you unable to move as he leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head to the side, not letting him kiss you but instead of doing that, he steers your body to the back until your back meets the bathroom sink.

"Is it because of me?" He asks.

You scoff and make a mocking smirk at him, "Not everything is about you, Minho," you say, daringly staring into his dark brown eyes.

Catching you off guard, Minho crashes his lips against you and you hate that you instinctively return his kiss. He pulls away for a bit then plants his lips on yours again, deeper and hungrier than before.

Getting a moment of clarity, you pull away from the kiss and keep your head turned away from him, "We can't keep doing this to Kim," you remark.

He leans in close until his face is only inches away from yours, "So you admit that it's because of me?"

There's no way of denying it anymore so you may as well just admit it, "You made me do this and I don't—"

He cuts you off with a kiss and you have to pull your head back hard enough to break it, "I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me keep doing this to Kim," you bravely tell him right to his face.

He leans in even closer so that you can see the dark orbs of his eyes, "Tell that to me once again," he dares you.

This is the time to break away from this cycle that shackles you with guilt, you should stop now before all this guilt weighs you down and drown you further.

"I hate you, Minho," you unequivocally tell him with unwavering eyes.

Minho intensely stares into your eyes to see if your words match what you're feeling inside. His eyes flick down to your lips, tempted to lean in for another but when his lips make contact with yours, he changes his mind.

He lets go of his hold on you all at once and then takes a step back, exiting the room and leaving you untethered for good.

-

It seems like what you've said to him has done it because Minho acts like you're not even there whenever you're in the same space with him and this morning, you find yourself in the kitchen with him just quietly minding your own business.

This is good, right? That means there'll be no more mistakes, no more betraying Kim and you can start being a good friend again. The best thing of all, you get to move out of the apartment on a good note.

"Hey, you're not working late tonight, right?" Kim asks as you're enjoying your morning coffee.

"I hope not," you say, putting down your half-eaten toast on the plate, "Cause I have lots to do tomorrow."

Kim nods and pours herself a glass of orange juice, "Since this will be your last night in an apartment, I'm hoping that we can have dinner together," she says with a smile.

She walks up to Minho and places her hand on the small of his back, "Minho will be cooking, of course, and I'll get a nice bottle of wine for—"

You quickly swallow your food to refuse the idea, "Oh, no, Kim, please, I don't feel good—"

She clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head, "No, you can't say no. I'll be waiting for you to come home whether you like it or not," she insists.

Maybe it's coming from the fact that she comes from a privileged family, Kim can be quite adamant about certain things, especially when she wants something, in one way or another, she has to get it.

The whole time at work, you're debating whether to make an excuse to avoid attending dinner or just gladly accept Kim's kind gesture and come to the dinner, the latter is what a good friend would do, right?

On the way home, you purposely missed the trains a couple of times before finally getting in. You're dreading it because Minho is cooking dinner and that means he'll be there for it, and this is worse than doing things behind Kim's back because you have to act innocent in front of her.

At the door of the apartment, you take a few deep breaths with your hand holding the doorknob. You console yourself with the thought that you'll only have to endure it for one more night and all this will disappear tomorrow.

"I'm home," you announce your arrival and try your best to sound cheerful as you make your way inside.

As expected, Kim is sitting at the dining table with Minho and it seems like they started without you as you see the glasses of wine.

"Oh, there you are!" Kim claps her hands together in delight.

"I'm sorry. The train was delayed for almost an hour," you make up an excuse for your tardiness while putting down your bag on the kitchen counter and head to the kitchen sink to wash your hands.

"I hope you don't mind that we almost finished the first bottle without you," Kim says.

"I don't mind at all," you say as you dry your hand with a napkin.

As you take a seat at the dining table, Minho gets up his seat and heads to the kitchen. You can't tell if that's intentional or not, but you remind yourself to not give an ounce of care to whatever he's doing.

"Minho only needs to reheat the sauce and dinner will be ready," Kim says as she fills your glass with red wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around in the room.

"Thank you," You smile in gratitude and take a small sip of it.

"So, how was work?"

"Dreadful," you shortly answer and reward yourself with another sip.

Kim cracks a laugh and something about it gives you the impression that she's rather a little intoxicated already.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you move out tomorrow," she says as she pours more wine into her glass which you deem is not a smart move.

"That's more than fine," you respond, "I heard from Gaspard you guys have started practicing for the winter show."

"Oh, yeah..." she softly says and then gets lost in her words for a second.

"We're doing The Nutcracker, again," she says with a dramatic pause.

"That sounds fun!" You nicely respond.

"You should come on the opening day, I'll send the ticket," she enthusiastically says and sips her wine.

"Only if you come to my little housewarming party," you meekly say even though you're not sure you know how to throw a party of any kind.

"That's a deal!" She says, clinking her glass of wine with you to seal the deal.

The mouthwatering smell has taken over the room as Minho serves the food on the table, he's cooking pasta and a big steak to share which he has sliced, showing off the perfect level of cooking doneness.

"This is delicious, honey," Kim praises after taking a bite of it, she then turns to look at you, "What do you think?"

"This is really good," you compliment because, despite everything, you can't deny that he's a good cook which also reminds you to thank him for it.

"Thank you for cooking dinner, Minho," you say even though his name feels dry and strange on your tongue.

He only nods and doesn't say anything but put more food on Kim's plate, and you can't lie that you feel a little dejected by his lack of reaction.

The dinner would be a big awkward moment if Kim wasn't leading ninety percent of the conversation on the table but as the night goes on and more wine dawned in, Kim starts to slur her words and mindlessly rambles about random things all at once. It gets to the point that she accidentally knocks things off, first it was her glass of wine and then, a pitcher of water that is now flooding the dining table.

"Kim, I think it's time for bed," you kindly say.

She brushes her hair away and sniffles, "But it's your last night here."

"We'll still be seeing each other tomorrow," you console her.

She cracks a smile and then snorts, "That's right."

Minho is quick to offer himself to carry her to bed but before she comes into his arms, Kim crashes herself into you and hugs you so tightly.

"You're the best roommate I've ever had," she mumbles with her head buried in your neck.

You put your arms around her to return her hug and gently pat her back, "That's so sweet of you, Kim."

"And I'm not saying that because you're the only roommate I've ever had, I genuinely love having you here," she says, pausing to inhale air.

"it's going to be so weird coming home and you're not here," she adds with a sniffle.

You can't bring yourself to check whether she's crying or not because if she does, there's a big chance you'll cry too. Instead, you look at Minho to let him know this is why you can't hurt her anymore.

All of a sudden, Kim breaks away from the hug and runs to Minho, she lets him take her to the bedroom. You watch as they get inside and close the door behind them.

After cleaning up the dining table and doing the dishes, you can finally go to your bedroom, being with yourself for the first time after a long, eventful day.

The room is bare since you have packed everything into boxes and you're standing there wondering how your life fits in those boxes. It gets you all sentimental as you feel like you're going on a new path in life.

The moment gets interrupted as you notice through the reflection in the mirror that Minho is coming into your room. Before you can stop him, he barges in and crashes his body against yours, lips instantly locked with yours as if they're two opposites of the magnet.

"Minho..." you sadly whine against his lips.

When you look into his eyes though, you just can't find it in you to resist him anymore so you give in and let tonight be another mistake.

Just one more mistake, you tell yourself.

-

Minho likes it when you're saying one thing but your body does the opposite. He's holding you close from behind and his hand is down south, fingers playing with your clit before he pushes one digit inside you, making you shut your legs together in reaction.

"We can't do this," you mutter against his lips.

He's expecting you to say that at one point but not this early in the night and not when he's just started. He presses his mouth into your ear and whispers, "Fight back harder if you don't want this."

There are so many ways for you to tell him off, you can break away from his hold, you can push him away and close the door right on his face but you do want this, he can see in the mirror how you liked being touched all over and how you like two fingers instead of one inside you.

"Oh..." you shakily moan as he enters two digits into you now.

Minho can feel it blooming under his touch and how wet you are for him, how your body wants more of him despite all of your efforts to stop him.

And you know what? He wants you just as much if not more.

He starts undressing you, taking every piece of clothing off of you as eager as a child unwrapping his Christmas present, and then gently, he lays you down on the end of the bed.

You look up at him with your eyes wide and flickering with desire, "Let's stop here, I let you—"

There you go with your empty warning again, he shuts you off with a kiss, "There's no way I can hold back," he says to you.

Impatient, he rips open his shirt and tosses it aside before kneeling at the end of the bed to indulge in your pool of arousal. Your moans begin to fill the room and in the mirror, he can see you try to muffle it by covering your mouth with your hand.

Minho can't get over how wet you are for him and he wants to keep it that way as he has lots of things he wants to do to you.

He gets up from the floor and quickly gets rid of his jeans next, then wastes no time to walk up to you. He takes your legs by the ankles, lifting them and holding them close to his chest, and then slowly, he parts them open.

Oh, the sight of your wet flushed cunt will never cease to arouse him. His head gets dizzy just from looking at it and it starts spinning as you put your hand around his cock.

"Fuck!" He curses under his breath as you bring his cock and rub it between your folds, making him more impatient to be inside you.

His patience wears thin and he puts his focus on aligning it with your entrance.

"Minho, I told you we can't— oh..." you loudly moan as you feel his cock penetrates you and stop talking as he pushes the rest in a painstakingly slow motion to make sure you feel every inch of his length stretching you.

"Doesn't this feel way too good?" He says as he deeply stares into your eyes.

He doesn't need to hear you say it, he knows because you feel too good around him too. He is steadily holding your legs on each side of his waist as he starts thrusting into you.

Minho can't decide whether he should watch his cock slipping in and out of you or watch how much you're enjoying it, quietly moaning while tugging your fingers between your teeth.

One thing he knows what to do is to make this last as long as possible, he stops when he knows you're closing in on your high.

"Oh," you sigh as he pulls out of you and swiftly, turns you over on the bed.

Now, he has you lying on your stomach and he grips your waist, raising it a little higher to give him just the right angle to enter you from behind.

You whine as you feel him full again and he's lowering himself on top of you, he's propping his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and slightly tilts your head to the back to land a kiss on your lips. He can feel the blood rushing in your veins with his hand wrapped around your neck.

"Minho, let's stop this already," you whine.

Despite his cock buried deep inside you, you still find it in you to try to stop him. He kisses you hard and deep as if he's trying to strip all of your senses away.

"Shut up!" He tells you, "You don't even want to stop."

From the way you close your mouth is enough to tell him that you have no response to that but he knows now that he needs to fuck all these worries out of you.

Minho does all of that, he's fucking you with all his might, he watches how your face contorted in pleasure, how your hands are crumpling the sheet under you as he picks up the pace.

"Minho..." you breathlessly call.

Before you can say anything to stop him again, he grabs your chin and makes you see your reflection in the mirror, "Look at that!"

He waits until you open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror as he asks you, "Does it look like you want me to stop?"

Fucking you good isn't enough, he needs to fuck you hard enough that you forget everything else except for this moment where only you and him exist in this sinful tryst.

"If you keep going, I'm going to come," you whine between your moans.

Minho takes that as a sign that he's heading the right way but rather than adding speed to his thrusts, he slows down his pace and allows himself to melt onto you, putting his body on yours, placing kisses all over your shoulder and neck until his lips find their way back to yours.

There's no way he's finishing this without seeing your face when it's everything he wanted the most from it, seeing how fucked out you are that you can't find words to say.

After turning you over on the bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes lust over your body and then he runs his hand all over you, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips. He's using his mouth next to suck on your breasts and his tongue to play with your nipples.

All these times, he's been good by not doing it but the urge to mark you is getting unbearable so he does it, sucking on your ample flesh hard enough that he knows it's going to leave a mark.

"Ow..." you yelp in pain but it comes out as a mewl as you try to keep your noises on the low.

Minho settles himself between your legs, burying his head once again in your wetness to prepare you for what comes next. You're whining and moaning, sometimes, it's a mix of both and it's resounding in the room.

He starts to believe that you forgot about his girlfriend sleeping in the bedroom across the room, he puts it to the test by sucking on your clit which earned a loud moan for you. He's right, you forgot about it until a while later, and you hurriedly cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He gets impatient all over again when it comes to entering you, he can only hold himself back so much and his self-control is wearing thin. He's lowly groaning as he pushes himself back into you, feeling your tight walls welcoming him.

"How are you feel so good every damn time, mmh?" He asks in disbelief with a rough kiss on your lips.

The sex feels so much better than the previous and if he could, he is just wanting to keep doing it with you because it doesn't feel like with other people, including his girlfriend of almost three years.

He watches as your eyes fluttering open and shut, and breathless moans spilling out of your parted mouth, overwhelmed by what he's doing to you.

"Look at you! Making lewd moans for me," he mutters with an intense gaze directed toward you.

He brushes your hair away from your face and kisses your open mouth, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You lick your lips and look at him through your half-shut eyes, "I hate— oh..."

He launches his cock deeper inside you, not letting you finish your sentence, and keeps the intensity of his thrusts to distract you.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" You manage to repeatedly say and Minho roughly thrusts into you every time you say it.

"That doesn't sound convincing," he mockingly says, pretending like it doesn't affect him when in fact, it does.

"I hate you and I hate your guts," you say with your body shaking from how hard he's fucking you and your breasts jiggling along to it.

The hate somehow encourages him to keep going, he's letting go of himself and letting his body take care of the rest. He doesn't need to worry about you, he knows you are on the brink of—

"Oh, my—" You let out a broken moan as you reach your climax

Minho keeps moving to chase his high, his nails digging into the flesh on your thighs as he's going impossibly fast, ramming himself into you until he too, finally reaches his high.

Even though he's high in unadulterated pleasure and his brain is foggy because of it, he knows his way to your kiss, he slowly puts himself on top of you and softly places his lips on yours. There's something intimate about this, it feels pure and raw, it's just you and him locked in a chaste kiss.

However, when you break from the kiss, you look at him and say for the umpteenth time, "I hate you, Minho."

Isn't it tiring to lie? Isn't it tiring to keep hiding? But sure, you can say things that go against what you're feeling and betray your own heart as much as you want but Minho isn't one to do that kind of thing.

He holds the side of your face and fiercely looks back into your eyes as he calmly says, "That's too bad because I like you."

-

That makes it the third statement: Minho likes you.

If the other two are the truth then that makes this a lie, right? But, oh well, why bother figuring it out when you've already moved on from that part of life?

It takes a month to adjust to your new apartment and discover some places around your neighborhood like a regular cafe to visit when you need your caffeine fix and a bakery that sells this delicious bagel when you need a breakfast to-go.

There's no denying that you miss Kim from time to time and it feels a little lonely when you come home from work, and that's why you're excited for tonight, you're having the housewarming party that has been postponed twice because Kim got tied with her practice schedule.

Swear to God! You're just excited to meet her again and not at the possibility that you'll meet her boyfriend again.

Since you doubt your skill in cooking, you decide to order some food from Gaspard's recommendations and he also comes early to help set the table.

"You're chipper than usual," he comments as he cleans the table with a cloth.

"Am I? I feel exceptionally normal," you playfully respond.

When the doorbell rings, your heart palpation and you can't even bring yourself to peek through the peephole, you take a deep breath and turn the knob.

"Hi, my darling!" Kim gasps the second you open the door for her and you both exchange a quick, warm hug.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind me bringing a plus one," she adds, opening the door wider to let someone else in.

The excitement fills you to the brim that you feel like you're about to combust but it deflates in a second when you see that she's bringing someone else.

"You remember Astrid?" Kim asks.

You hide your disappointment and put on a smile, "I believe we met at the party," you vaguely remember her from her dirty blonde hair and Kim's fellow dancer.

"Yes, exactly that Astrid," she says as she shakes your hand.

"Please, come in!" You politely say, making a way for your guests to come inside your small apartment.

Gaspard appears to welcome Kim and gives her a quick hug, as if he heard your thoughts, he asks, "I thought you'd be with Minho."

"His car broke down again," Kim sighs as she takes off her coat, "I already told him so many times to buy a new one instead of sending his car to the shop."

This is so infuriating. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't care about Minho, reality slaps you with the truth. You've been under the illusion that this distance will help you diminish this feeling but you do care, you care a lot.

The party went well or that's what you guessed, you were out of it most of the time, your body was here but your mind was going all over the place.

"You're so quiet," Gaspard comments again as he helps you clean up after Kim and Astrid leave.

"I'm just... sad," you honestly admit but decide to lie about the details, "Soon you'll be leaving too and I'm alone again."

Gaspard slyly smiles at you and leans the side of his body against the wall, "I mean, I can stay with you," he offers.

You scoff and put the dirty glasses into the sink, "Well, then you won't be missing me tomorrow," you say with a pout.

He sighs as he takes your subtle rejection with an open heart, "Are we still on for Sunday brunch?"

"Why? Do you need to cancel?" You jokingly say.

He bumps his shoulder with you as he joins in the kitchen sink to help you with the dishes, "Your treat!"

"Sure. My treat!" You agree with a bump into his shoulder.

A little after eleven, Gaspard left the apartment too with a long hug and a kiss on your cheek. You're going back inside to tidy up a few things while draining the wine from the leftover dinner, chugging it straight from the bottle.

It feels rewarding that you finish the wine by the time you're done cleaning the kitchen and now, you're tired enough to not think of anything else and ready for bed.

As you're about to change out of your dress, you hear the doorbell rings and your first thought is it's Gaspard, because he's done it before and he's shooting his shot for the umpteenth time. You're holding yourself back from laughing and head to the door to open it, unlocking it without checking it through the peephole first.

"What? Do you miss me already?" You jokingly say as you pull open the door.

"Yes," Minho answers without a beat as he's standing in front of you, making your heart race inside your chest and waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies as they start to flutter around in your stomach.

The first thing that comes to your head is what he said to you that night. Minho likes you and you still can't determine this one statement, well, it seems like you need to play another round to know if it's a lie or a truth.

-

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[bunnwich]

My Yuusona🐇

Enter Yuuta Midori:

Between looking out for their adoptive youger siblings and wrangling Grim "the Great" this busy prefect can often be found doing odd jobs around the campus for extra money. From tending to the botanical gardens or assisting Sam at the Mystery Shack. With a stubbornness to survive as a magicless person in a magical world, rugged but charming Yuu is always there to help their friends in need or tend to their wounds.

-

Trivia:

- Yuuta resides in the Ramshackle alongside Yume Ume, (@comingyourlugubriousness) and Yuuhi, who they have dubbed their younger brothers. While not actually related, the 3 bonded after being brought to this strange new world with no memories. - Yuuta is genderfluid and goes by they/them, he/him and she/her. However, sometimes (like Epel) they become self-conscious of their "softer" features and prefer to present more masc at the beginning of the year. - To their dismay, after Riddle's Overblot Yuuta discovered that they have empathic powers forcing them to feel the emotions of others around them. This effect grows as they become closer to the person. Sometimes touch triggers the ability to see others' memories. The only people who currently know of this power are their Ramshackle roommates and Leona Kingscholar, (who they accidentally confessed this to.) - After the events of Chapter 2 Yuuta was given a set of magical cards by Sam that can perform small, elemental attacks in battle. These cards are imbued with special energy and also function as Yuuta's Tarot deck. - After discovering they have a talent for brews and tarot reading, often Yuuta offers small charges for these services to their fellow classmates. They offer potions that help with confidence, studying, and even love confessions. - Due to a gas leak at the Ramshackle after the events of Chapter 4 Yuuta was sorted into the Savanaclaw dorm temporarily. During their stay, they managed to grow their first aid skills as well as earn the respect of the Savanaclaw Dorm and even its leader. (More in Part 2!) -

Part 1/2

[everydayspamton]

How much longer do you think we have till chapter 3

I've been wanting to break something like this down all Deltarune-theory-style and this seems like the perfect opportunity! The release of chapter 3&4 also relates directly to this blog, so that's a plus.

In terms of development we're lucky that Toby Fox has been incredibly generous with sharing updates on where the game is, and whats left before launch.

Comparing the information we've been given in the last few newsletters to this timeline in the Summer 2024 newsletter, it's fairly easy to pinpoint where we are and what's left.

Public testing for the LTS update and game_change function has recently been completed!

As per the Autumn 2024 newsletter, the untested English PC version of chapter 4 has also been completed.

Chapter 3 has been translated to Japanese and the PC version has been bug tested.

Chapter 4 has just begun Japanese translation, and PC testing will begin when it is closer to completion (which according to Toby will take "some months" for the final pass of translation to be done)

The last bullet is a pretty accurate mark on where we are in the development. Somewhere on the "Console Ports, Japanese Version, and Other Stuff" part of Toby Fox's List.

We can also use the information from the Summer 2024 newsletter to know what's left on the To-Do list before launch.

Complete Japanese translation and PC bug testing for Chapter 4.

Create and bug test console ports (Nintendo Switch and PlayStation. Xbox is a maybe)*

Final Bug testing

Getting the game reviewed by rating boards.

Preparing soundtrack for release.

Creating marketing material and trailers in preparation for release.

"And more... ?" (I'm assuming this is just referencing the fact game development is unpredictable and anything could slow development, but who knows)

*⬆️It seems that it's not a big deal to make the console port, but instead bug testing will be. It also seems that they've begun work on console porting already, based on the autumn 2024 news letter ⬇️

SO...

Given the fact that we've never waited through all these end-of-development processes for a Toby Fox game it's hard to get an accurate time frame for it all. Although, Toby Fox has said Chapter 3&4 will definitely come out next year and I'm beyond ecstatic. I've yet to answer the question though... When do I think it's coming out?? I think we're getting Deltarune 3&4 around Q3 of 2025. (Q3 is just fancy talk for the months of July, August, and September). The main reason I think this is because Toby has put a "some months" time frame around completing the Japanese translation. PC testing for chapter 4 and Console testing for 3&4 is next, which will hopefully be relatively speedy given the fact they have outsourced a company to assist them. After that is a bunch of legal-console-game business stuff they have to get straight. I'm not predicting the end of next year because of how confident Toby Fox seems in releasing it in 2025, and because of the fact we don't have a trailer I don't think it's releasing in early 2025 either. But with the introduction of the frozen inu in the last newsletter, I think we're getting closer and closer to a real release date!

Toby has also been fond of releasing on special dates. Chapter 1 came out on Halloween of 2018. Chapter 2 was September 17th, 2021, which was the 6th anniversary of Undertale.

September 17th, 2025 will be the 10th anniversary of Undertale, and a date that fits well within the Q3 time frame I've predicted. If I were to put money on any date, it would be this one.

Let me know if any of y'all agree, disagree, or just have any thoughts about this... Or if posts like this are fun to read. Thanks for reading if you made it this far!!

Also... I like your gnarpy pfp

[demonking-propaganda]

About chapters 365-366

I just find it so, so, so interesting to see another member of the Amy family, especially in this context!!! It gives us some insight into the wider relationships between families in the Netherworld.

I find it particularly fitting that the Naberius and the Amy families are allies. While at first I was surprised to see another Amy demon, it actually makes so much sense that they are both in the "demonazi" faction represented by Naberius Narnia.

1. Both families are affluent, distinguished, and feared by others. This clearly makes them favorable towards the status quo: the powerful on top, the "weak" on the bottom.

2. Related to the point above, both families have a role in the current functioning of the Netherworld, and specifically they have the role of protectors. The Amy Clan because of their Barrier bloodline ability, and the Naberius Clan because they're guard dogs. Not only any major change would be an existential threat to their families, but "protection" (as in being conservative) is literally their job.

3. Both clans are known for being gifted in terms of magic. While this is a natural characteristic based on mostly luck (and maybe eugenics via marriage, but this is my speculation), they treat it as something that makes them better than other families, and deserving of their social standing.

4. They force this vision of the world into their children, and have high expectations for them, to the point of being violent if they do not conform and/or causing suffering to them in the process of confirming that they are worthy.

And I find it so interesting to then think about the reaction of their younger members. Kiriwo, having been rejected, rejected in turn the Amy Clan's hierarchical ideals and became an active anarchist (a chaotic evil one, but still an anarchist). Kalego seemed to accept the status quo, but as we saw in chapter 319, his priority is now Babyls, not his family, so he's ready to clash with them. I honestly had never thought of those two as somewhat parallels before...

I'm so hyped about the next chapters!!!

[disabled-dean]

Announcing Lebanon Fic Week!

In light of recent political events, @butch--dean & I have been talking a lot about the importance of fandom and transformative fanworks in building community and mutual aid.

We've worked in close collaboration on this project and have put our heads together to develop a short event at the end of December for the release of Ten Minutes from Home: Lebanon Coda.

I had planned to release the fic over the course of two weeks, but have condensed it down so that all of the chapters will be coming out between Christmas Eve and New Years, with the hope of adding some extra seasonal cheer to a fairly bleak time.

Lebanon Release Dates:

December 24th: Chapter 1 & 2

December 25th: Chapter 3 & 4

December 26th: Chapter 5 & 6

December 27th: Chapter 7

December 28th: Chapter 8

December 29th: Chapter 9

December 30th: Chapter 10

December 31st: Chapter 11 & Epilogue

On the days that each chapters release, I will be reblogging related content to @lebanon-wip with an optional tag to block if you don't want any spoilers (#lebanon fic spoilers). Anyone who wants to share related content is welcome to send it to me via ask or in DMs and I will share it! If you want to create original content, you can tag it with #10MFH (and/or send it directly to me). @butch--dean has pointed out that tags on re-blogs don't show up in the Tumblr search function (thank u taylor) so reblogging existing posts with the #10MFH is not trackable. You've gotta send them in asks or be so so brave and DM.

We've also got a couple of commissioned artists who will be sharing work inspired by the fic. I will be adding links to interactive bonus content on this master list and on the chapter announcements as they are released, along with a couple of low-barrier participatory events planned (like sharing a photo of your favorite holiday or seasonal mug). The purpose of this event is to be in community with one another, be ourselves, and have fun! Any and all original content is encouraged. Please come as you are <3 Lastly, thank you so so much for all of the excitement and support around this fic! She has truly blossomed from your love and encouragement, which has warmed my heart and made all the difference <3

Thank you for being so so so niceys to me! Please enjoy my little gift to all of you.

[byoldervine]

The Trick To Writing Filler

(TL;DR at the bottom)

Filler is when you spend a chapter padding the length of your story between plot-related events. Filler chapters have little to no impact on the overarching plot and can be self-contained, and thus in TV shows filler episodes are often reran the most as people unfamiliar with the show can casually watch without being confused without the knowledge of prior plot beats

So with the chapter being largely self-contained and acting outside of the plot, what do you use to make the filler chapter engaging? I’m going to use filler episodes from Avatar: The Last Airbender to provide examples

1. Worldbuilding. Zuko Alone depicts Zuko’s travels taking him through an Earth Kingdom village and becoming acquainted to the family that allows him to stay with them, especially their young son. He learns about what the Fire Nation’s impact on this village has been; destroyed houses, families torn apart, constant robbery and other abuses of power and injustices. And even after Zuko defends the villagers and his new friend, he’s venomously cast out from the village by even the little boy because he outed himself as a firebender. This episode explored the impact of the war on the people of the Earth Kingdom, the victims of war that have no involvement in it and no way of defending themselves from it

2. Character exploration. In The Beach, we learn more about Mai, Ty Lee, Azula and Zuko and how their own traumas and personal upbringings have impacted their personalities. For Zuko this is part of a turning point for him, but for the girls it’s more to understand why they are the people we’ve gotten to know over the seasons, especially Ty Lee and Mai. The episode also serves to showcase how Azula and Zuko are so out of place being just normal teenagers; Azula has no idea how to talk to her peers and no identity outside being Princess Azula of the Fire Nation, while Zuko’s hotheadedness and jealousy issues lead him to lash out and be far too confrontational and controlling for his own good. This episode isn’t really used to develop these characters, or at least not the girls, but instead explains and showcases their behaviours and the reasons behind them

3. Character development. Going back to The Beach, Zuko does indeed receive development rather than just character exploration like the girls do; he comes to understand that he’s not just angry at the world or angry in general, but angry with himself. This is a notable turning point for Zuko’s redemption arc, because he now understands fully that he truly regrets betraying Iroh and sacrificing his new start in life in favour of returning to the Fire Nation. He might not yet be fully decided on turning his back on Ozai, but without this moment I don’t know if he’d have gotten there, or at least not as quickly as he did

4. Relationship development. Sokka’s Master has a C plot of Aang, Katara and Toph all being rather bored and lost without Sokka’s presence. The A plot exploring Sokka’s feelings of inadequacy and uselessness in comparison to such powerful and formidable bending masters being contrasted with the Gaang unable to function without him already speaks volumes about their dynamics, but looking deeper into the C plot also shows how much value Sokka really does bring to the team; structure, planning, humour, a quick wit, strategic moves. The Gaang always supported Sokka and never seemed to view him as expendable outside of the occasional teasing, but having it acknowledged so clearly and plainly that they can feel a little aimless and flat without Sokka and being so delighted when he returns really shows us the kind of value Sokka brings to this team and brings us and the characters to further appreciate it

5. Downtime. The Ember Island Players depicts the characters taking a break to watch a comedic play based on their wacky adventures, only to be largely underwhelmed and displeased by how they’re portrayed. There are no stakes to this episode and barely any plot, just the Gaang taking a breather as they react to a bad play. This chance to relax and watch something inconsequential is just as important to the viewers as we’ve got the show’s finale in the next four episodes, which will be very plot-driven and intense. The Ember Island Players also has the additional viewer bonus of recapping the events of the show right before it all ends, giving the viewers time to reflect on the journey they’ve gone on with these characters. In order for the stakes to feel high and the tension to rise, there has to be downtime where there are low stakes and low tension; if things are intense all the time, the moments that are supposed to feel super intense will just feel average in comparison. Resetting that intensity right before such a big event while still acknowledging the looming threat coming soon will feel like the calm before the storm and allow your audience to soak it all up like the characters are

Wow, did I just go through all that without talking about Tales of Ba Sing Se? I’ll save that for another post if people are interested in more

TL;DR - filler provides a moment to breathe, reset the intensity levels the audience are experiencing and take a chance to step away from the external conflict (the overarching plot) in favour of worldbuilding and the characters within your setting. Small moments can amount to something big, and can help make large scale decisions or plot twists feel more build-up and in-character

[just-some-sorta-person]

The first couple of pages of Episode Nagi parallel Nagi's journey and hint at Nagi understanding his originality after death

Episode Nagi chapter 1 page 3

Nagi wakes up and gets pricked, causing him to awaken- just like how experiencing frustration for the first time in the team Z match "awakened" him.

Despite being awake, Nagi doesn't get out of bed bc "getting up is such a pain..." so instead he focuses on "beating the daily challenge" This may refer to Nagi wanting to/succeeding at beating Isagi, though I think it more so parallels Nagi’s decision to start “making an effort” in blue lock, given that he dies.

So then Nagi dies, which forces him to get up and go to school. At the same time, he realizes he's hungry

This is a pain, because to be hungry is to want things and be human. Being hungry makes you do things to sate that hunger. It forces you to live. And to Nagi, living is a pain.

After chapter 298, we have reached the part where Nagi “dies”, which will forces him to get out of bed. Right about now is when Nagi should be getting "hungry" too, which can be understood as understanding his “originality” as Ego describes. This is whatever deep intrinsic desire he feels he wants to fulfill.

Maybe the reason why Nagi’s death kickstarts this understanding is because it denies him of what he wants, causing hunger. Maybe it’s because it’s only at rock botttom, having lost everything, that Nagi can face what he wanted in the first place. After all, if he’d faced it earlier, he’d have to face the possibility of losing it. Now, that’s moot point, as he’s dead and lost it all.

What is this originality? It may be related to his fear of losing Reo, which he expressed in his dying moments. But what he hungers for shouldn't just be being by Reo's side. That's settling. Settling in a place like Blue Lock is no good.

Nagi got mad at the implication that he was Reo's toy. What he should aim for isn't just Reo letting him tag along by his side, but being Reo's true and real partner. He needs to find the bravery to chase that instead.

What Nagi's been doing through his lack of communication with Reo (and, what Reo has been doing by assuming certain things are impossible) has been settling. They need to stop settling for a situationship and get together. They need to get to a point where they have a mutual understanding of their partnership that isn’t functioning to keep them together, but rather only exists because they decided to be together and understand each others feelings.

For an example of settling, take Reo’s 300 mil proposition and Nagi’s unenthusiastic agreement. Nagi clearly doesn’t care about that, but he wants to be with Reo, so he doesn’t object or correct him. He settles for being a passive participant in the relationship despite getting mad at Barou for calling him Reo’s servant, and later gets to the point of begging Reo to let him stay by his side by 298.

For another example of settling, take Reo’s assumption that without soccer they could never be together, and that they will separate once the World Cup is won (in the extra chapter). This is part of what leads him to react the way he does in 2nd selection.

By the time of 298, Nagi clearly thinks the same- though this wasn’t a given to him like it was to Reo. He’d asked Reo in the harujuku extra chapter what they would be if Nagi had no soccer talent, and Reo had told him Nagi’d be abandoned- though there was no way Nagi didn’t have talent in Reo’s mind.

Even if Nagi had gotten past that idea by the time they entered blue lock, it would have been reinforced when Reo accused him of forgetting their promise/not caring about him anymore by choosing to play with Isagi, demanding Nagi to throw him away. Being rejected because of not playing soccer with Reo despite working toward their dream would send the message that their partnership is reliant on soccer. At least, to someone as passive as Nagi. Thus, “I am not your toy”. But it seems like he’d settle for that.

After that moment he uses kanji instead of katakana to refer to Reo which has been confirmed to mean he feels more distant from him.

The fact of the matter is that playing together doesn’t necessarily make one play better. Your motive cannot be being helpful or useful to someone else, out of transaction for their company. Partnerships only work when mutual interests align instead.

That may beg the question- doesn’t that mean relationships of convenience are the way to go? Ie the Karasu Otoya route, for instance?

Well, no. Relationships of convenience are for when two different/opposing mutual interests align. What we haven’t seen (yet) is when mutual interests align because they are so similar- because two people want to win together at the end of the day. They understand this shared desire, and trust each other to do their best to carry it out- resulting in an ideal partnership.

The nagireo endgame… potentially.

[frankingsteinery]

victor is one of the most psychotic characters i have ever read in literature and it all feels both surprisingly accurate and relatable given the time period; i have been meaning to make a proper analysis on victor's psychotic symptoms for awhile now, but have, ironically, been delayed due to my own psychotic symptoms, so here's more of an informal list--

i'll be breaking down victor's: 1. negative symptoms (loss of functioning)

2. positive symptoms (hallucinations)

3. disorganized thinking and speech/behavior

victor's psychotic symptoms, as well as his initial psychotic break during the creation of the OG creature, are brought upon by the stressors of creating the creature(s), both before, during and after the creation process. the first of these symptoms were negative symptoms.

negative symptoms of psychosis are a loss (thus--"negative") or reduction of normal functioning, and can include restricted emotional expression, lack of speech or monotone speech, difficulty thinking, reduced motivation and/or desire to initiate activities, reduced socialization and social withdrawal, and an inability or decreased ability to experience pleasure. they most commonly occur in the prodromal (initial) phase before the acute phase (characterized by hallucinations, delusions, and confused thinking) and in the recovery phase, which is true of victor's case.

andehonia (lack of pleasure):

"...but I did not watch the blossom or the expanding leaves—sights which before always yielded me supreme delight, so deeply was I engrossed in my occupation... But my enthusiasm was checked by my anxiety... I became nervous to a most painful degree" (paranoia, too) -- Vol I, Chapter III

"It was a most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage: but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature" -- Vol I, Chapter III (1818)

"By very slow degrees, and with frequent relapses, that alarmed and grieved my friend, I recovered. I remember the first time I became capable of observing outward objects with any kind of pleasure..." -- Vol I, Chapter IV (1818)

asociality (social withdrawal) & alogia (impoverished speech):

"And the same feelings which made me neglect the scenes around me caused me also to forget those friends who were so many miles absent, and whom I had not seen for so long a time. I knew my silence disquieted them..." Vol I, Chapter III (1818)

"Study had before secluded me from the intercourse of my fellow-creatures, and rendered me unsocial..." -- Vol I, Chapter V (1818)

"This state of mind preyed upon my health, which had entirely recovered from the first shock it had sustained. I shunned the face of man; all sound of joy or complacency was torture to me; solitude was my only consolation—deep, dark, death-like solitude." -- Vol II, Chapter I (1818)

additionally, and in general, victor becomes incapable of initiating activities (avolition) while being cared for by henry at ingolstadt.

victor hallucinates several times throughout the novel. these hallucinations are almost exclusively visual, and primarily of the creature:

“'Do not ask me,” cried I, putting my hands before my eyes, for I thought I saw the dreaded spectre glide into the room; “he can tell.—Oh, save me! save me!” I imagined that the monster seized me; I struggled furiously, and fell down in a fit." -- Vol I, Chapter IV (1818)

"The form of the monster on whom I had bestowed existence was for ever before my eyes, and I raved incessantly concerning him..." -- Vol I, Chapter IV (1818)

"I saw around me nothing but a dense and frightful darkness, penetrated by no light but the glimmer of two eyes that glared upon me. Sometimes they were the expressive eyes of Henry, languishing in death, the dark orbs nearly covered by the lids, and the long black lashes that fringed them; sometimes it was the watery clouded eyes of the monster, as I first saw them in my chamber at Ingolstadt..." -- Vol II, Chapter IV (1818)

"All pleasures of earth and sky passed before me like a dream, and that thought only had to me the reality of life. Can you wonder, that sometimes a kind of insanity possessed me, or that I saw continually about me a multitude of filthy animals inflicting on me incessant torture, that often extorted screams and bitter groans?" -- Vol II, Chapter IX (1818)

"Sometimes I entreated my attendants to assist me in the destruction of the fiend by whom I was tormented; and, at others, I felt the fingers of the monster already grasping my neck, and screamed aloud with agony and terror." -- Vol III, Chapter IV (1818)

beyond that, victor's positive symptoms also include delusions of guilt, grandeur and persecution. however, this is complex enough that it warrants its own separate post. for another time... (edit: find it here)

victor also experiences disorganized behavior, behaviors that are inconsistent, contradictory, or don't fit the situation; for victor, the most obvious of which is catatonia, a symptom of psychosis characterized by abnormal movements, behaviors, and withdrawal. he demonstrates both akinetic (staying still, appearing unresponsive, staring blankly, lack of speech) and excited/hyperkinetic (moving in a pointless/repetitive way, appearing agitated or delirious, pacing, etc) catatonia.

"Unable to endure the aspect of the being I had created, I rushed out of the room, and continued a long time traversing my bed-chamber, unable to compose my mind to sleep...I took refuge in the court-yard belonging to the house which I inhabited; where I remained during the rest of the night, walking up and down in the greatest agitation, listening attentively, catching and fearing each sound as if it were to announce the approach of the demoniacal corpse to which I had so miserably given life." -- Vol I, Chapter IV (1818)

"...my spirits became unequal; I grew restless and nervous. Every moment I feared to meet my persecutor. Sometimes I sat with my eyes fixed on the ground, fearing to raise them lest they should encounter the object which I so much dreaded to behold." -- Vol II, Chapter II (1818) 

"Then the appearance of death was distant, although the wish was ever present to my thoughts; and I often sat for hours motionless and speechless, wishing for some mighty revolution that might bury me and my destroyer in its ruins." -- Chapter 21 (1831)

he also displays inappropriate/unusual reactions, another example of disorganized behavior:

"I was unable to contain myself. It was not joy only that possessed me; I felt my flesh tingle with excess of sensitiveness, and my pulse beat rapidly. I was unable to remain for a single instant in the same place; I jumped over the chairs, clapped my hands, and laughed aloud... my loud, unrestrained, heartless laughter, frightened and astonished [Clerval]" -- Vol I, Chapter IV (1818)

victor shows disorganized speech through his "ravings" several times and there's quite a few examples of this but i can't be bothered to pull more quotes. here's just one:

"A fever succeeded this. I lay for two months on the point of death: my ravings, as I afterwards heard, were frightful; I called myself the murderer of William, of Justine, and of Clerval." -- Vol III, Chapter IV (1818)

as a side-note, in the 1800s, the term "fever" was used loosely in comparison to its modern definition, and the health of the mind and body was often viewed as interconnected--thus victor's "fevers" after periods of high stress that triggered psychosis—while being nursed back to health by henry, during his time in prison, etc.—could easily be viewed as mental illness rather than an actual physical sickness, or some combination thereof.

lastly, victor experiences disorganized thinking, which includes racing thoughts, flight of ideas, confusion, trouble keeping track of thoughts, difficulty concentrating, time processing disturbances, etc.

in general, victor experiences dream-like perceptions that leads to difficulty being present, concentrating, and processing reality, what he himself refers to as “strange thoughts” (Vol II, Chapter IX, 1818). for example:

“All pleasures of earth and sky passed before me like a dream, and that thought only had to me the reality of life.” – Vol II, Chapter IX (1818)

additionally, victor is known to lose time and “awaken to understanding” weeks or months later several times:

“What then became of me? I know not; I lost sensation, and chains and darkness were the only objects that pressed upon me…by degrees I gained a clear conception of my miseries and situation, and was then released from my prison. For they had called me mad; and during many months, as I understood, a solitary cell had been my habitation.” – Vol II, Chapter VI (1818)

“But I was doomed to live; and, in two months, found myself as awaking from a dream, in a prison…It was morning, I remember, when I thus awoke to understanding: I had forgotten the particulars of what had happened, and only felt as if some great misfortune had suddenly overwhelmed me.” — Vol II, Chapter IV (1818)

“I seemed to have lost all soul or sensation but for this one pursuit. It was indeed but a passing trance, that only made me feel with renewed acuteness so soon as, the unnatural stimulus ceasing to operate, I had returned to my old habits.” — Vol I, Chapter III

he also demonstrates flight of ideas, a thought disorder that involves rapid shifting of thoughts that are expressed in language. people with flight of ideas may speak quickly and jump between ideas that are not connected in a way that is difficult to follow, illogical, or nonsensical. this occurs just before alphonse visits him in prison:

“I know not by what chain of thought the idea presented itself, but it instantly darted into my mind that the murderer had come to mock at my misery, and taunt me with the death of Clerval, as a new incitement for me to comply with his hellish desires… “Oh! take him away! I cannot see him; for God’s sake, do not let him enter!’” — Vol III, Chapter IV

to which mr. kirwin “regards [victor] with a troubled countenance” in response.

aaand that's a wrap.

there's no real point to all this i just wanted to outline most of his symptoms so i could have it all in one place. i'll probably expand on this sometime with more actual thoughts and ideas of substance as well as building on the implications of a reading of frankenstein where victor experiences psychosis (and how actually acknowledging victor's mental illness forces a much more sympathetic interpretation of victor... which is why people tend to talk around it). do with this what you will!

[nightghoul381]

Once Again, The Evil Cannot Be Undone

Ring & Roger: Roger's End

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Roger's End | Ring's End | Roger's Epilogue | Ring's Epilogue

Roger and Ring had both taken me out, but my memory still hadn’t returned.

As I was walking aimlessly through the garden at dusk, deep in thought—

Kate: “Whoa, that surprised me…”

Suddenly, a fluffy pound cake-like lump passed under my skirt and twirled around my feet.

Kate: “Hehe, Hi cutie. What’s your name?”

???: “Hmm…?”

The adorable corgi looked at me quizzically.

Kate: “Maybe we’ve met before… Sorry, I’ve lost my memory and don’t remember.”

???: “Woof!?”

Then the corgi suddenly bit into the hem of my skirt…

(Is he telling me to follow him…?)

I followed the corgi down the stairs.

(Is this, some kind of laboratory…?)

The place was filled with a huge number of medical books, laboratory equipment, and medicines I had never seen before,

The sudden smell of disinfectant brings back a strange, nostalgic feeling in my chest.

(Could this be… Roger’s—)

While we were together, my eyes were drawn to the faint scent I picked up on from Roger, and I spotted something.

--A white coat placed haphazardly on a chair.

(Is that my name…---)

--Flashback—

Roger: “And this is the most important thing.”

Roger: “I certainly can’t say I’ll live long.”

Roger: “But, in return, I’ll give you everything I have.”

Roger: “Above all, I will never let you get bored while we’re together. I will love you to the core.”

Roger: “Kate. Either you will be my lover, or you won’t. If you choose to be my lover, then kiss me.”

--End Flashback—

(…This white coat.)

It was proof that Roger had no intention of letting me go.

???: “Woof woof.”

Roger: “Oh, Ale, why are you in a place like this? I was looking for you…Wait, Kate!?”

Roger was shocked when he spotted me.

(But, my tears won’t stop…)

Kate: “Roger, oh, Roger…”

Roger: “What are you bawling about?”

Kate: “I remembered… all of it… everything about you.”

Kate: “I’m sorry I forgot about you, Ale.”

Ale: “Woof woof!”

Roger: “Have your memories returned?”

Kate: “Yes.”

Roger looked down at the white coat I was holding tightly.

Roger: “…Huh, so showing you that was enough to end it.”

The reason I felt so breathless was probably because I was being held so tightly to his steel-hard chest.

Or maybe it was because fond memories were overflowing and never stopping.

But either way, a great sense of happiness filled my heart.

Roger: “Even though you were completely torn up, you passed the final exam and became my lover, which was my dream.”

Roger: “I can’t believe someone would completely forget that. I almost had to start training from scratch again…”

Roger: “……”

Suddenly, his words stopped.

Kate: “Roger?”

Roger: “……Don’t say anything.”

I couldn’t see Roger’s expression as he buried his face in my shoulder.

But the strength of his arms as he held me told me his true feelings.

Gently stroking his strong, broad, yet protective back, I looked around the lab.

(It seems like there are so many more documents in Roger’s lab…)

The pile of documents on his desk was several times higher than it was before I lost my memory.

Picking up the words on one document, I was startled.

(Papers and research reports on memory and related brain functions…)

He never told me that we were lovers, and he continued to work hard at his research to help me recover my memories, without my knowledge.

He never showed any signs of being depressed and even took me out to cheer me up.

Kate: “Roger…”

Feeling a surge of love, I gently cupped his cheeks with both hands.

Kate: “Did you know you have dark circles under your eyes?”

Roger: “I got so absorbed in my research that I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

He laughed as usual, so I laughed back as usual.

Kate: “If I’d been there, I wouldn’t have let you do something so reckless, Roger.”

Kate: “I’ll make sure you get a good rest tonight.”

Roger: “Sorry, but I won’t have time to sleep tonight.”

Roger: “I’m going to be making love to you all night long.”

The kiss that fell on my lips was the egoistic kiss I knew so well.

Kate: “…Haah, mmm, mmm…”

Even though he was made of steel, Roger’s lips were incredibly soft.

Just touching them made me melt sweetly.

Roger: “You didn’t close your eyes, what are you looking at?”

Kate: “You, Roger… I want to engrave you on my heart, so I’ll never forget you again.”

Roger: “You idiot. You can just forget about that.”

Roger: “If that ever happens, I’ll make you fall in love with me again, that’s all.”

Kate: “You’re the idiot, Roger.”

Roger: “Maybe so.”

Roger stroked my earlobe as if to tickle it, then brought his lips close to mine again.

Roger: “But I’m confident about that.”

His egoistic words, typical of my boyfriend, made me feel so much love for him that I couldn’t stop…

Kate: “!...”

I grabbed Roger around the neck and captured his lips.

Roger: “Oh my, you’re adorable with you kiss me so happily.”

Saying that, Roger also went in for a kiss.

For both of us, a simple kiss with our lips touching was no longer enough.

Kate: “…Mmm, aahh,  haaah—”

As if on the verge of exploding with the feelings that I’d been unable to put into words, I passionately intertwined my tongue with his—

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Roger's End | Ring's End | Roger's Epilogue | Ring's Epilogue

[sorormaior]

Kulikov

Act 1: The Witness

Well I said I'd do it. Here's the prologue and chapter one of my fic, Kulikov. I'll be posting the first act here, but probably not the rest

There was someone there, on Nostramo, who cared. Who treated him kindly, tried to bring him away from that dark path. The love was there, it changed nothing.

Next Chapter

Prologue

It started with an auspex ping. A flat tone that indicated something closeby in the endless dark. A dull green light flicked on, the cogitator whirred into life. 

An asteroid, high in adamantine content. Completely stationary- the sensors returned some initial responses in regards to void anchors. A ring of static pylons, stout and streaked with the grime of the void, but each as tall as a man. 

From the far side of its face, the asteroid was featureless, pockmarked by debris but otherwise nothing special. Wear had given way to a shine at certain angles- the adamantine, the only true export Nostramo had been valued for. 

Drawing closer, choosing another face, a dark chasm cut into it. An overhang creating a cave-like mouth, the floor worn purposefully flat and smooth for craft to land upon it. Atmosphere generators flanked the entrance like gargoyles. Beyond them, further into the dark, a set of heavy doors with a dark symbol plastered upon them. A bat-winged skull was engraved upon the metal, proving to the ones who had sought this place that it was what they were looking for. 

The landing pad was large enough for a single Stormraven, though many other craft hung in the void around it, waiting. Twelve astartes left the vessel, moving in tight formation to the doors, blue armour throwing up strange reflections on the worn cave walls. 

The machine spirit of the door reacted quickly to the commands given to it, showing that maintenance had been performed recently. Indeed, the air that rushed forward was not stale- it was recently refreshed, the lack of security measures speaking to its remote location. The architects did not intend for it to be found. This made the squad act with further caution, especially as there seemed to be no light inside the reliquary. 

The noise of armoured boots on metal stairs seemed oddly muffled as they proceeded forward, pauldron to pauldron in a space clearly designed for them. The reliquary was not large, having only a few rooms, which they checked methodically. It was a short corridor consisting of five doors, four set into the walls, facing each other and a fifth at the very end. Bones and skulls were moulded into the walls, a deathly peace to those whose ends were assuredly not gentle.

The first door to the right was an armoury, neatly stored weapons and ammunition. Its twin to the left led to a control centre, where cogitators eagerly returned to function. They displayed power outputs, logs of those who had come before and the maintenance done, systems support and various data controls relating to temperature. The most recent activity was a scant two solar days before they had arrived.

The next two doors lead to the true reliquary. Symbols of ages long since passed, to a former Legion’s glory, one they were unlikely to ever recover. These were catalogued, removed from their cabinets and placed into cargo storage crates hauled from the armoury. 

This left the final door. Here too was the Eighth Legion heraldry, the bat-winged skull. It shone brightly under the lumens, refined silver metal against the dull grey of the rest of the door. 

AVE DOMINUS NOX 

The letters were carved there by a master's hand, repeated again beneath in what could only have been Nostraman runes. This door opened willingly too, as if eager for the astartes to continue, to find what lay inside. 

Cold vapour rolled across the floor, dim blue light pouring forth, drowning all need for lumens. It did not come from lumens, but from a coffin. Or at least what appeared to be a coffin, upon closer inspection it was a cryogenic sleeper pod, held inside of a stasis field. The walls hummed with power, and a few screens displayed vital readouts. At the base of the coffin melted candles pooled, scraps of parchment folded and tucked away, a few clean skulls placed like offerings to a heretic’s god, flowers only just beginning to wilt. 

In the casket was a bulky outline, recognisable to anyone familiar with the Adeptus Astartes. Hands laid crossed over their chest, almost covering the bat-winged skull there. The figure was unhelmeted, though the death-faced thing had been placed above their head like a guardian. The face of the space marine was clear, even with the frost encrusted glass. 

A face changed by augment and scar, with three prominently stretching across. A hooked nose and a thin face, brown skin of an unnatural pallor- as if unused to the sun. The head was slightly tilted to the left, the mouth just barely open, dark eyes barely open- the black eyes beneath making them appear closed. As if there had been someone standing there that the marine had turned to look at before being sealed away. 

A cogitator on the wall beeped quietly, as if apologetic for disturbing them. At a nod, an Astartes stepped forward. A new pilgrimage log had been created, and access provided to a single file, named Kulikov.

It contained only a few things of note. A readout of the current vitals of the casket’s occupant, which seemed to be in order. A list of Night Lords who had attended the reliquary and the prizes they had brought. A single vox recording. 

At another nod, the Astartes commanded the machine spirit to play it. 

The voice echoed around the chamber. Dark, cracked and hoarse. The voice of a monster in the night, yet still somewhat regal. Heavily accented with sibilance, captivating in its ghoulishness. 

“If you are standing here, you stand before the last true child of Nostramo. The last loyal Night Lord, the best of us all. Cary Kulikov. If you are a member of my Legion, one of my poisonous sons, know that this is what you were intended to be, know that you never will be. If you are not, and you have somehow stumbled upon this place: I command you to leave. This is the will of the Night Haunter.”

The recorded voice few had heard in a myriad seemed to hang in the air, sticking to the skin. Curze had always had a flair for the dramatic, like many of his brothers. 

The intruders took no heed of this warning, instead moving in synchronicity to the sides of the casket, to the machinery keeping the stasis field in place. There was a crackle in the air as with a few taps against the cogitator, the stasis field fell. The vapour moved a little faster, but the figure within the cryogenic casket remained unchanged. 

A few more commands and the casket was removed from its moorings, those pipes which fed into the chamber that had frozen in place wrenched away by gauntleted hands. Handles were mag-locked to the side of the casket, as the claw hidden behind it lowered from a vertical position to a horizontal one. Four Astartes took up places at the handles, lifted the casket from the fittings it had sat in for nearly ten thousand years. They marched from the chamber, almost a mockery of a funeral procession. The figure was after all, not dead. Great pains had been taken to keep them alive, more care than any thought still could be had in these times. 

They filed out from the chamber and the reliquaries, heretic artefacts in crates carried between the rest. The casket was loaded onto the Stormraven, awkwardly laid down between the seats, only just enough room for it. Closer now, they could see the shadows haunting the cheeks and eyes, a triangle-shaped split in the shell of the left ear. The face was tired, the crease between the eyebrows betraying some great grief. It was not the face of one who would now call themselves Night Lord. 

The Stormraven flew to the waiting battle barge, those who had waited around the asteroid following closely, like a protective flock. Then the ships departed, leaving the asteroid unmarked, once again floating- now completely empty, in the soundless void.

Chapter 1: Awoken

They opened their eyes, only partially. Frost and light made it difficult- that was their first real clue that they were no longer on the Nightfall. No one would have had the lumens this bright. They squeezed their eyes shut against it, a child refusing to wake. Their breath came in ragged, quick gasps. The ache of surgery was still fresh, soft twinges of pain that they recognised but never felt before to this degree. 

“K- Khh-,” their mouth did not want to move, their teeth chattered against the cold. “Ko- Konnacht.” 

There was no response to their plea. Shadows moved across their face, and they forced their eyes open, ready to receive whatever horror awaited. It was a face, that much they had expected. A face of a space marine, broad and noble, fair skinned but crossed with battle scars, a pair of metal studs embedded above the eyebrow. 

The eyes were, of course, the final nail in the proverbial coffin. They were green, with an inner ring of grey. Of course it didn’t matter what colour the eyes were- they weren’t black. The man above them studied them as if they were little more than bacteria on a plex dish.

Noble blue armour, a bright gold trim, a blazing white Ultima. His narthecium was clicking over them, tapping at armoured plates, testing their pulse. He was also waving a diagnostor over them. 

“Ultramarine,” they managed. “You- you must tell… the Lords. Curze- Curze has… gone mad.” 

The Ultramarine looked at them dispassionately.

“You have been heavily injured, Captain, please do not move or attempt to speak.” 

Captain. Had that been their rank? They’d never truly been sure if they’d had an official rank. 

“Nostramo,” they tried again. “Nostramo is gone.” 

The Ultramarine nodded. 

“We are aware. Rest.” 

But their body would not rest. There were tremors, half from the cold and half from their body reacting to the damage taken. 

“Where is he?” They asked. 

The Ultramarine did not answer. 

“What of Sevatar? Shang?”

He still did not answer. Further noise came, the whining of servos inside power armour. More marines.

“We are going to lift you from the casket, Captain Kulikov,” another voice said. “Please do not move.” 

Handles were maglocked to their armour, they stayed as still as they could, but a soft groan of pain still escaped their mouth as they were moved. The ache became a tear, a body still happily reminding them of the damage inflicted. 

They were manoeuvred to a cot, where chapter serfs came forward. The serfs knew the layout of the armour, knew where the catches lay and where to find the bolts that held it together. They lay limply, only moving to ease the job of the serfs. The weight of the armour was practically unmovable for them in their current state- the power pack didn’t help. 

“What is this?” A marine intoned.

They were just about able to tilt their head, to look back at the casket and what the Ultramarine held. Deep blue fabric, it looked small in his hand.

“My jacket,” said Cary. “Could I have it?” 

Some wordless exchange happened between the Astartes in the room. But the jacket was brought to them.

“It was folded behind your head,” said the marine who had found it. 

“It’s my QPC jacket,” they mumbled, half to themselves, smoothing a thumb over the silver-threaded patch at the shoulder. “Half a relic now.” 

More of the plates were removed, from the inside the damage was more obvious. The repairs had been done well, but still visible. Curze had caved in most of their diaphragm after all. 

“I need to inspect your injuries,” the apothecary said. 

Cary leaned forward, grinding their teeth against the pain. Gauntleted hands held their shoulders, supported them as the apothecary released the catch at the back of the neck. The glove only needed to be taken down to their waist, and they were laid back down again. 

It was the first time Cary had seen the wound. Medical skin had been pulled across the gap, the hole had been too large to simply suture closed. The scarring was still red, still raw, slightly pink at the edges. There were still flakes of dried blood, smeared across their skin. It was the newest scar, but far from the first. 

“What weapon caused this?” Another Ultramarine asked, his helmet angled downward. 

“Mercy,” Cary answered. 

The helmet looked at them, and though his face was hidden Cary could feel his confusion, muted though it may have been. 

“One of Curze’s lightning claws. Mercy and Forgiveness,” they nearly laughed. 

The spasm of near laughter made their body seize and jolt, they lay still. The Ultramarines lacked a sense of humour, instead one steadied their shoulder while the apothecary placed a needle to their arm. 

“A painkiller. Your carapace has been repaired but not healed fully,” he said. 

Cary nodded, not really taking in the information.

“How long have I been asleep?” They asked.

There was no response from those in the room. With their eyes adjusted to the light they could make out a handful of armoured Astartes, four including the apothecary, and a small team of serfs. 

The painkillers crept across their body, elevating much of the pain but rendering them even more sluggish in their thoughts and movements. 

“How long?” They asked again. 

“A long time,” the apothecary said. 

Cary looked at him, blinking slowly against the numbing effects of the drug. 

“Tell me,” they pleaded.

“Nearly ten thousand years,” the Ultramarine who had given them their jacket said. 

The apothecary glared at his fellow, then checked what Cary could only assume was a readout of their vitals. 

“Ten thousand years?” Cary repeated, slowly.

They looked straight up at the ceiling, not truly seeing it, digesting this information. 

“Where is Curze?” They asked. 

“Dead,” said the Ultramarine. 

“Elaius,” cautioned the apothecary. 

Cary nodded, slowly. It was an odd feeling, circling its way across their chest. Grief had always been their constant companion, more constant than even the Night Haunter had been. Now the grief was compounded further- when they closed their eyes they still saw Nostramo burn. 

“Why did he let you live?” The Ultramarine- Elaius asked. 

“I don’t know,” Cary admitted. “He always said he’d kill me. That he’d seen it. Always followed the damn visions. Followed them right to the end.” 

Their breathing was becoming more laboured, their chest tight with exhaustion and mourning. Cary closed their eyes, only praying that the action would stop them from weeping openly. 

“You need rest,” rumbled the voice of the apothecary.

Another needle pierced their skin, and again they fell into a drugged sleep. 

-

The dream was formless, not a true thing. An unconscious space that had broken down. Someone was calling their name. They turned. Darkness seeped across the not-floor, it was below them, a roiling ocean, a black sea. There, down below them, a speck of white. They already knew who it was, they reached out their hands, but never seemed to be able to get any closer. They felt hands on their shoulders, strong, large hands. 

They tried to shrug them off, gritting their teeth and reaching again, gauntleted arm outstretched. Cary looked at their arms. Looked at their gauntlet. The chain.

Cary Kulikov, as they had done many times before, took aim upon their primarch and fired. The silver chain sprung forward, the four-pronged hook expanding out. It caught. The chain grew taunt. The servos on their arm whined as the motors pulled the chain back. 

He came up from the dark sea like a bat, reaching for them as they reached for him. There was a second where they saw his face, pale and gaunt, then the Primarch crashed into them like a solid wall. 

All again was dark. 

-

When they opened their eyes again, they had to take a second to think. It was not the same ceiling Cary had been helped to slumber under, where bright lumens had danced painfully before their eyes. In fact, the room was rather dim. There was a blanket laid over them, and what seemed to be a bed beneath them. 

Sleeping quarters, they thought, idly. Indeed, tilting their head they could see that their armour had been mounted magnetically to a storage rack. The rest of the room was small, spartan in its furnishings, though shelving space clearly existed for the occupant to make it their own. An Astartes-sized desk and chair, an ablutions chamber and of course a lone figure sitting politely on a stool. A young girl, probably belonging to the servant caste of the ship- probably about thirteen or fourteen years old. She had short blonde-white hair cut roughly above the shoulders, sky-blue eyes and a pale, voidborn complexion.

She peered at Cary, the hands on her knees just about peaking out from her sleeves. 

“You don’t look very frightening,” the girl said, sliding off of the stool. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about.” 

“I try my best,” Cary replied.

The girl looked at the door, suddenly still. Like an animal in a trap. Cary could hear the sound of plated boots coming down the corridor. 

“You’re not meant to be in here, are you?” They observed. 

The girl scowled at them, worrying her lip with her teeth. Cary nodded towards the ablution chamber. 

“Go hide in there. Sit down and don’t move. I won’t breathe a word,” they mimed drawing a cross over both sides of their chest with a finger. Cross their hearts and hope to die.

The girl scrambled into the chamber, clicking the door shut. Cary looked to the door. When it opened, only two people entered. One Ultramarine, and a young man- human. He was dressed in Imperial black, with an impressive amount of golden trim and fine decorations. His skin was dark, and his hair close-cropped to his head. Cary looked to his breast pocket, where an inquisitorial rosette sat plainly. 

“Good morning, Captain Kulikov,” said the young inquisitor. “I am Inquisitor Gael Casteter, I would like to ask you some things.”

Cary had never had a particular love for the inquisition. Torture a man enough he’d admit to anything, it was no way to reveal any kind of truth. 

“Can I ask some questions first?” Cary sat up, slowly. 

The Ultramarine watched them carefully, but did not reach for his weapons. He seemed taller than most other marines. Gael took the stool, recently abandoned by the girl. 

“You may.” 

“What has… happened?” They asked. “It’s been ten thousand years. Who still lives? Does anyone? The Primarchs, the Emperor?”

Gael looked at them with something approaching sympathy. 

“The God-Emperor lives, resting upon the Golden Throne of Terra. Lord Guilliman, returned to us from his stasis, serves as his Lord Regent.”

It took them longer than was comfortable to process this. 

“The Warmaster?” They asked.

“The Arch-Traitor Horus,” Gael corrected them, gently. “He fell to the ruinous powers, and with the traitor legions brought upon the Imperium a bloody war. Many were lost to us.” 

A thousand names came to their lips. Cary dared not speak them, as if silence would keep them alive. 

“Traitor legions?” They settled on.

“The Sons of Horus, the Emperor’s Children, the Iron Warriors, the Night Lords,” he paused to incline his head in the direction of their armour. “The World Eaters, The Death Guard, The Thousand Sons, the Word Bearers and the Alpha Legion. They joined Horus on his crusade, and paid the ultimate price.” 

Cary’s head span, blinking rapidly against the information. They didn’t want to believe it- they didn’t want it to be true, no matter how much it had to have been true. They had seen parts of it in visions, with their own eyes.

“The Sons of Horus,” they echoed. 

“You would have known them as the Luna Wolves,” the Ultramarine said.

Cary recognised the voice through the vox speaker. It was Elaius, the one whom the apothecary had chided. They rested their head against the metal wall behind them, closed their eyes. 

“I am sorry,” said the Inquisitor. “I understand this must be a shock.” 

“I have lost everyone I have ever known in the span of what feels like a day. Perhaps two at a stretch,” they said, without thinking. “I am a little more than shocked.”

Cary opened their eyes again, looking at Gael. 

“What did you want to ask me?”

He withdrew a device from his pocket, balancing it on his knee. They recognised it as a vox recorder, the green light meaning it had been listening to their conversation, likely from the moment Gael and Elaius stepped through the door. 

“I would like to hear your account, from the very beginning,” said Gael. “I am aware you knew Konrad Curze from a young age, I want to hear about your life.” 

Cary tilted their head.

“Why?”

“I am nothing if not a scholar, Captain Kulikov. It will also help me to keep you alive longer, many here already think you a heretic if only for the armour you wear and the geneseed you bare.” He smiled, kindly. 

“Everything then? From the very beginning?” They clarified.

“If you would be so kind.”

“Very well.”

[whencyclopedia]

Touching Parchment: Volume 1: Officials and Their Books

"Touching Parchment" culminates 25 years of research on European medieval manuscripts (ca. 1100–1500). By scouring archives and taking more than 900 photographs, Kathryn Rudy documents the visible damage of neglected and undisplayed copies, interpreting the marks of wear that remain. She suggests these signs are not merely damage but are readable evidence of the deep emotional connections and ritualistic gestures people used to engage with the written word.

Manuscript historian Kathryn Rudy from the University of St. Andrews in Scotland is known for taking a forensic approach to studying medieval manuscripts. Renowned for her Dirty Books Project, she introduced a new historical approach by using the densitometer to measure grime and manipulation.

In Touching Parchment, the first of two open-access volumes, Rudy presents the culmination of 25 years of research across European archives. Collecting more than 900 photographs of European medieval manuscripts (ca. 1100–1500)—many of which are reproduced in this book—she argues that these works are often left unexamined since damaged manuscripts are typically not chosen for display. Yet, she asserts that the damage on these manuscripts represents “interpretable marks of wear” and each mark, whether intentionally put there or not, has a story to tell (4). These signs of wear reveal the deep emotional connections people formed with manuscripts, shedding light on the ritualistic gestures they used to engage with the written word.

In Part I, the first chapter serves as an introduction outlining the structure, method, and approach along with how the book relates to its relevant historiography. In “Ways of Touching Manuscripts,” Rudy breaks down her analysis of manuscript damage into the broad categories of “inadvertent wear” and “targeted wear,” each of which has various subcategories (29). The discussion of the targeted wear had much more detail. She talked about depositing wax as place markers and scratching them off, kissing texts, touching images, and sewing curtains to pages among other explanations for visible damage to manuscripts.

Part II, titled “Books and Authority,” begins with Rudy exploring the broader trends of oath-swearing, tracing its evolution from the "Peace of God" movement in 975 to roughly the 14th century—a period spanning four centuries during which the practice of swearing on Gospels and missals gradually replaced using relics. A discussion of coronations and other acts of oath-taking was interestingly used to explain manuscript wear. Chapter Four relates how the history of kissing “images, words, and decoration within books” left physical evidence of wear (85). A history of missals that focused on liturgical practices highlights a shift in the 12th century, when worship became more theatrical, incorporating an increasing number of prescribed religious gestures—many of which are now evident in manuscripts. The next chapter “Swearing: From Gospels to Legal Manuscripts” emphasizes the late medieval expansion of oath-swearing from something concerning only emperors and kings to a practice adopted by the literate public. Legal manuscripts copied images from religious texts and adopted many of the rituals that were once exclusive to the religious sphere. Touching these images in oath-taking ceremonies left smears and other signs of wear that were painstakingly photographed and analyzed. The final chapter reviews the wear on books used in liturgical singing and memorializing the dead. Given the purpose of these manuscripts and the frequent use of ritual liturgical gestures, these books survived with much greater wear compared to other medieval manuscripts.

Overall, many of the chapters could function as stand-alone supplementary texts for a variety of post-secondary courses, spanning disciplines from art to history. Secondary teachers might make use of the hundreds of images to illustrate how people interact with both art and the written word. Its open access ensures that this incredible book can reach and benefit a wide audience.

Read More

⇒ Touching Parchment: Volume 1: Officials and Their Books

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 4

Oops! I didn't realize this one had so many chapters done. I had been using it as my "I'm stuck on the other two stories so I work on this one to clear my head" story and I currently have five chapters backlogged. So instead of Batshit Soulmates today, you're getting two of this one. One now and one tonight.

In this chapter we have Eddie doing his research and we find out how he recognized Steve. Also Jeff&Eddie besties for life!

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

The last few days in Hawkins went by in a blur. Eddie couldn’t do the research he wanted to, not without alerting everyone else what he was up to, so he focused on buying both their albums and listening to them nonstop.

“This that band you went to go see?” Wayne asked after three days of him having both albums on constant repeat. “The one you were whining about have to go to?”

Eddie sat up from where he laying on the floor with headphones on and took them off, resting them around his neck. He pulled one knee up and draped his arms around it casually.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Dustin has been gloating about it, so I would rather you didn’t add to the pile.”

Wayne crouched down so that they were eye level. “This about that secret you found out?”

Eddie opened his mouth to lie but Wayne just raised an eyebrow and he snapped his mouth shut with a click. He let out a low shuddering breath and then nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s about that.”

Wayne picked up the vinyl sleeve and looked at the cover. He studied the image a moment or two before he said, “You think that someone you know is in the band, don’t you?”

Eddie bit his lower lip and then sighed heavily. He knew he couldn’t keep it from Wayne, but he had hoped he would have been back in Cali before he realized it.

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” he said tilting his head back, “but yeah. I think I know someone in the band.”

“You jumping to conclusions?” Wayne asked in that gruff but gentle way that was a staple of Eddie’s childhood.

Eddie looked up at Wayne and then shook his head. “I don’t know enough. Not yet.”

Wayne got to his feet with a grunt. “Good. You keep it that way. There’s probably a good reason for all that.” He waved at the vinyl sleeve. “So don’t you go pushing your friend’s buttons until you know that reason.”

Eddie nodded. “I read you loud and clear.”

Wayne ruffled Eddie’s hair and walked away, leaving Eddie with plenty of time to think.

****

Dustin was staying in Hawkins for the whole summer, so when Eddie left, he was finally on his own.

Finally able to get out of his head and do some real research. He also knew better than to do anything than listen to his own music mid-flight. Too many wandering eyes.

Any one of his fellow passengers could be some blogger, Youtuber, Tiktoker, influencer or actual fucking press.

Thankfully the flight was most empty and short.

He was met at the airport by his manager Chrissy Cunningham.

She grabbed his bag, leaving Eddie to juggle his guitar better.

“Record management has all four of you in a hotel nearby,” she told him as she stowed the bag in her trunk. “They want you sequestered this time.”

Eddie winced. It wasn’t for any music related reason, though he didn’t doubt the sequestering would help with the process.

Nope.

It was because last time Gareth and Brian went on a three day drinking bender and were too sloshed to function for at least two days after that. Almost a whole week of recording down the drain because half the band went off the rails.

“Roger that!” Eddie said with a jaunty two fingered salute.

“You can have alcohol sent to your room,” she continued as they got into the car. “But Gareth and Brian aren’t allowed. So if you share your stash, that’s on you.”

“You can count on me and Jeff not contribute to the delinquency of our bandmates,” Eddie bit out. “We were just as pissed as the label when we couldn’t get a hold of them for those five days.”

Chrissy nodded. “Fame can really do some fucked up shit to people.”

Eddie hummed his acknowledgment. “Just please tell me I’m not sharing with anyone. You know they all hate sleeping in the same room as me.”

Chrissy snorted. “Only because you stay up all hours of the night perfecting song, while they actually want to, oh I don’t know...sleep?”

Eddie cackled. He was the world’s worst insomniac when they were working on an album. The rest of the time he was a sound sleeper.

“But no,” Chrissy hummed, “you all have your own suites. With Brian and Gareth on opposite sides of the hotel so they don’t fuel each other’s vices.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “That’s great news.”

They went up to Eddie’s suite and he immediately got to unpacking. He couldn’t stand living out of his suitcase and didn’t know how anyone else could.

He ordered a couple of six packs of beer, his favorite vodka, and a couple of whiskys that should last him at least a couple of weeks. He stashed the beer in the suite provided mini-fridge and settled down to watch Youtube on the big screen TV.

He was just devouring everything he could on The Fallen. He started with their music videos. The one for “Kiss the Boys/Kiss the Girls” was especially sweet. He found out that the lead singer was bisexual and that the song was about finding love in whatever form that took. With a full verse on non-binary peeps despite the title.

But the videos weren’t helpful. The band themselves were rarely in them. So Eddie turned to interviews. Impromptu ones on red carpets and podcasts, as well as sit down interviews for talk shows and entertainment press.

Again the lead singer was charismatic and charming. And it was looking more and more like his theory was correct.

Then he came across the interview.

“How does Azrael see out of his mask?” the Vanity Fair interviewer asked.

The drummer pulled out another mask and handed it to Abbadon. It seemed like it was part of the shtick that the drummer never spoke.

Abbadon held up the mask to the light. “You can see that the eyes are a mesh-like material. It works like a one way mirror. You with the strong light, can’t see in, but Azrael with darkness of the mask can see out.”

Eddie hummed his interest. That was a cool trick. It meant that the drummer wouldn’t get hurt while still maintaining that anonymity.

And it appeared that the interview thought the same as they nodded along, impressed.

“What is the reason for the masks?”

Astraeus leaned forward into the mic. “Because when we first got started no one would take us seriously as ourselves?”

Just then the hotel door swung open and Eddie quickly pressed pause. He sighed with relief when he saw it was Jeff.

Jeff stopped in his tracks to stare at the screen. “Oh hey, The Fallen. They’re pretty cool.”

Eddie whipped his head around and glared at him.

“How do you know about them and I didn’t?”

Jeff laughed. “Dude, the radio embargo was you thing, not an everyone thing. They’re really good. I love their new single ‘You’. It’s really sweet.”

Eddie nodded, it was really good. It was one was of his favorites, too.

Jeff got closer to the TV. “Wait. Is this the ‘metal fans would hate us if they saw who we really are’ interview?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Jeff scoffed. “Metal fans are the most welcoming group of fans out there.”

Eddie chewed on his bottom lip and thought about Steve. And how preppy he still dressed even this far outside of high school.

“Not if they were preps,” he said softly.

That brought Jeff up short. “What now?”

“I think Abbadon is Steve.”

Jeff started laughing and laughing like he couldn’t stop. Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled up the picture he had taken of The Fallen’s lead singer. Once Jeff had gotten control of himself, Eddie showed him the picture.

“Okay...” Jeff said. “I’m not sure what this shows other than your obsession with necks.”

“Zoom in.”

Jeff rolled his eyes but did as he was told. “Okay, so what am I looking at?”

Eddie licked his lips nervously. “You see those two moles, just under his chin?”

Jeff half shrugged. “I mean, I guess.”

“Steve has moles in the exact same place,” Eddie explained. He took the phone back from Jeff and went through his IG feed. He pulled up a picture of Steve. The angle wasn’t exact, but it was close enough.

He handed it back to Jeff. “Now zoom in on the neck.”

Jeff did as he was told.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Eddie pursed his lips and chewed on the bottom one. He played with his rings and was just fidgeting.

“Dude!” Jeff cried. “We should tell someone!”

Just then Eddie’s fidgeting hit the remote and the video began playing again.

“Is there any chance of a future reveal?” the interviewer asked.

Asmodeus leaned into the mic and said, “Ask us again in ten years when we’re world famous.”

Eddie managed to get a hold of the remote to pause it again and in the resulting silence Jeff and him shared a glance.

“Fuck, dude,” Jeff said. “We can’t say shit, can we?”

Eddie shook his head. “It would be like outing a queer person before they were ready.”

Jeff came around the sofa and flopped down next to him.

“Wow,” he said with more than a little awe. “So Steve Harrington is in a metal band...” He let out a shuddering sigh. “And is good. Not just good, but damn good.”

Eddie nodded. “Is it bad that I kinda feel like I’ve been tricked?”

Jeff let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m not going to tell you how to feel, but if no one knows, that it’s not personal.”

“You mean to tell me that no one knows?” Eddie hissed, getting to feet. “Not Robin, not Dustin? Or any of the kids? Because I call bullshit!”

Jeff looked up at him. “Robin, maybe. Those two are attached at the hip. Hell, Robin could even be their slinky and sexy manager, Celeste. But Dustin, man? I wouldn’t tell that kid shit. Not if I wanted it to still be secret ten minutes later.”

Eddie fought to calm his breathing. Yeah okay. That tracked. Robin with makeup and a black wig would completely disguise her to the point that not even her own mother would recognize her if they passed on the street.

“Dustin wouldn’t–” he began but Jeff cut him off.

“This is the kid that spoiled Will’s surprise party that he was planning,” Jeff said, counting off on his fingers. “The kid that would go searching through his mom’s closets and under her bed looking for birthday and Christmas presents. The same one that announced our second album six hours before it was set to drop. I wouldn’t tell Dustin Henderson the time of day if I didn’t want everyone to know about it.”

Eddie huffed. He wanted to argue that all that was little shit. Not really that important. But then he remembered all the times where Dustin would say something out of context, something that all his friends would jump on him for, only for it to be revealed later that Dustin had spoiled some surprise. It was just that no one had realized it at the time.

This time he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” Eddie said, sitting back down next to Jeff on the sofa. “And I know that if Steve had come to me and said he wanted to form a metal band, I would have laughed in his face.”

Jeff gave his knee a squeeze. “We all would have. So let’s do what we do best. We change the culture. We make the metal scene open to people of all walks of life, not just the freaks and outcasts. We make it safe for them to come out.”

Eddie let out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah. I could do that. We could do that.”

“Good,” Jeff said, patting Eddie’s knee. “It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve never liked easy.”

Eddie laughed as Jeff got up. “So what are you doing in my room anyway? Don’t you have your own?”

Jeff opened the mini fridge and took out a can of beer. “I forgot to order beer and I hate it warm, so I thought I’d steal one of yours.”

Eddie threw a throw pillow at him, which Jeff deftly caught and lobbed back at him.

Jeff came over and kissed his cheek. “Get out of your head and do something with all that restless energy you’ve built up with this eating away at you.”

Eddie let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, man. Thanks.”

Just as Jeff reached the door, he called out. “What would you and the boys think about inviting them to open for us on our next tour?”

Jeff grinned. “They would probably kiss you on the mouth.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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[jesperweidemann]

Top 5 Writing Applications for Worldbuilding and Complex Story Planning

In the realm of creative writing, particularly when it comes to worldbuilding and complex story planning, having the right tools can make a significant difference. Writers often find themselves juggling multiple characters, intricate plots, and expansive settings. To manage these elements effectively, specialized writing applications have been developed to assist in organizing thoughts, tracking details, and fostering creativity. In this article, we will explore the top five writing applications that are indispensable for worldbuilding and complex story planning.

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1. Obsidian: The Ultimate Tool for Writers

Obsidian is a robust note-taking and knowledge management application that has gained immense popularity among writers for its flexibility and powerful features. Whether you are working on a novel, a series of interconnected stories, or an entire fictional universe, Obsidian provides the tools you need to keep everything organized and easily accessible.

Key Features of Obsidian

Markdown Support: Obsidian uses Markdown, a lightweight markup language, which allows writers to format their notes with ease. This feature is particularly useful for creating structured documents and linking related notes.

Bidirectional Linking: One of Obsidian's standout features is its bidirectional linking capability. This allows writers to create connections between different notes, making it easy to navigate through complex storylines and character relationships.

Graph View: The Graph View in Obsidian provides a visual representation of how your notes are interconnected. This feature is invaluable for worldbuilding, as it helps writers see the big picture and understand how different elements of their story fit together.

Plugins and Customization: Obsidian offers a wide range of plugins that can enhance its functionality. Writers can customize the app to suit their specific needs, whether it's adding a calendar for tracking writing progress or integrating with other tools like Google Drive.

Cross-Platform Sync: With Obsidian, you can sync your notes across multiple devices, ensuring that you have access to your work wherever you go. This is particularly useful for writers who like to jot down ideas on their phone and then expand on them later on their desktop.

Pricing

Personal Use: Free

Commercial Use: $50 per user per year

Add-ons:

Sync: $4 per user per month, billed annually

Publish: $8 per site per month, billed annually

Catalyst: $25+ one-time payment for early access and VIP features

How Obsidian Enhances Worldbuilding and Story Planning

Obsidian's features are designed to support the intricate process of worldbuilding and story planning. The ability to create detailed notes for each character, location, and plot point, and then link them together, allows writers to build a comprehensive and cohesive narrative. The Graph View provides a visual map of the story, making it easier to identify connections and ensure consistency. Additionally, the customization options and plugins available in Obsidian mean that writers can tailor the app to their specific workflow, making it an indispensable tool for any serious writer.

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2. Scrivener: The Writer's Swiss Army Knife

Scrivener is a well-known writing application that has been a favorite among writers for years. It offers a wide range of features designed to help writers organize their work, from drafting to final edits. Scrivener is particularly useful for long-form writing projects, such as novels and screenplays, where managing large amounts of text and research is essential.

Key Features of Scrivener

Project Management: Scrivener allows writers to break their projects into manageable sections, such as chapters or scenes. This makes it easy to navigate through the manuscript and make changes as needed.

Research Integration: Writers can import research materials, such as PDFs, images, and web pages, directly into Scrivener. This keeps all relevant information in one place, making it easy to reference while writing.

Corkboard and Outliner: Scrivener's Corkboard and Outliner views provide visual ways to organize and rearrange sections of the manuscript. This is particularly useful for plotting and structuring complex stories.

Customizable Templates: Scrivener offers a variety of templates for different types of writing projects, from novels to screenplays. Writers can also create their own templates to suit their specific needs.

Export Options: Scrivener supports a wide range of export formats, including Word, PDF, and ePub. This makes it easy to share your work with others or prepare it for publication.

Pricing

macOS: $49

Windows: $45

iOS: $19.99

Bundle (macOS + Windows): $80

How Scrivener Enhances Worldbuilding and Story Planning

Scrivener's project management features are ideal for worldbuilding and story planning. Writers can create separate sections for different aspects of their world, such as characters, settings, and plot points, and then easily navigate between them. The ability to import research materials directly into the project ensures that all relevant information is readily accessible. The Corkboard and Outliner views provide visual ways to organize and rearrange the story, making it easier to see the big picture and ensure consistency. Overall, Scrivener is a powerful tool that can help writers manage the complexities of worldbuilding and story planning.

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3. Campfire: A Comprehensive Worldbuilding Tool

Campfire is a writing application specifically designed for worldbuilding and story planning. It offers a wide range of features that allow writers to create detailed and immersive worlds, from character profiles to interactive maps. Campfire is particularly useful for writers who are working on large-scale projects, such as epic fantasy series or intricate science fiction universes.

Key Features of Campfire

Character Profiles: Campfire allows writers to create detailed profiles for each character, including information on their appearance, personality, and backstory. This helps ensure that characters are well-developed and consistent throughout the story.

Worldbuilding Tools: Campfire offers a variety of tools for worldbuilding, such as interactive maps, timelines, and relationship webs. These features allow writers to create a comprehensive and cohesive world for their story.

Plotting Tools: Campfire's plotting tools help writers outline their story and track the progression of the plot. This is particularly useful for complex stories with multiple plotlines and subplots.

Collaboration Features: Campfire allows writers to collaborate with others on their projects. This is particularly useful for co-authors or writing teams who need to share information and work together on the story.

Customizable Templates: Campfire offers a variety of templates for different aspects of worldbuilding and story planning. Writers can also create their own templates to suit their specific needs.

Pricing

Free Plan: Limited features

Standard Plan: $19 per month or $160 per year

Custom Plan: Prices start at $0.50 per month per module

How Campfire Enhances Worldbuilding and Story Planning

Campfire's features are specifically designed to support the process of worldbuilding and story planning. The ability to create detailed character profiles and interactive maps allows writers to build a rich and immersive world for their story. The plotting tools help writers outline their story and track the progression of the plot, ensuring that all elements of the story are well-organized and consistent. The collaboration features make it easy for co-authors or writing teams to work together on the project. Overall, Campfire is a comprehensive tool that can help writers manage the complexities of worldbuilding and story planning.

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4. Aeon Timeline: A Visual Timeline Tool for Writers

Aeon Timeline is a visual timeline tool that helps writers organize their stories and track the progression of events. It is particularly useful for complex stories with multiple plotlines and characters, as it allows writers to see the big picture and ensure consistency.

Key Features of Aeon Timeline

Visual Timelines: Aeon Timeline allows writers to create visual timelines for their stories, making it easy to see the progression of events and track the relationships between different plotlines.

Character and Event Tracking: Writers can create detailed profiles for each character and event, including information on their relationships and interactions. This helps ensure that all elements of the story are well-organized and consistent.

Customizable Templates: Aeon Timeline offers a variety of templates for different types of writing projects, from novels to screenplays. Writers can also create their own templates to suit their specific needs.

Integration with Other Tools: Aeon Timeline integrates with other writing tools, such as Scrivener and Ulysses, making it easy to import and export information between different applications.

Collaboration Features: Aeon Timeline allows writers to collaborate with others on their projects. This is particularly useful for co-authors or writing teams who need to share information and work together on the story.

Pricing

One-time Purchase: $65 (includes 1 year of free updates)

Additional Year of Updates: $35 per year

How Aeon Timeline Enhances Worldbuilding and Story Planning

Aeon Timeline's visual timeline feature is particularly useful for worldbuilding and story planning. Writers can create detailed timelines for their stories, making it easy to see the progression of events and track the relationships between different plotlines. The character and event tracking features help ensure that all elements of the story are well-organized and consistent. The integration with other writing tools makes it easy to import and export information between different applications, ensuring that all relevant information is readily accessible. Overall, Aeon Timeline is a powerful tool that can help

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5. Plottr: Visual Story Planning Made Simple

Plottr is a visual story planning tool that helps writers outline their stories in a clear and organized manner. It is particularly useful for writers who prefer a visual approach to planning and want to see their story structure at a glance. Plottr's intuitive interface and powerful features make it an excellent choice for both novice and experienced writers.

Key Features of Plottr

Timeline View: Plottr's Timeline View allows writers to create a visual timeline of their story, making it easy to see the sequence of events and how they fit together. This is particularly useful for complex stories with multiple plotlines.

Character and Plot Templates: Plottr offers a variety of templates for character development and plot structure. Writers can use these templates to ensure that their characters are well-rounded and their plots are cohesive.

Drag-and-Drop Interface: Plottr's drag-and-drop interface makes it easy to rearrange scenes and chapters. This allows writers to experiment with different story structures and find the one that works best for their narrative.

Filtering and Tagging: Writers can use tags and filters to organize their scenes, characters, and plot points. This makes it easy to find specific elements of the story and keep track of important details.

Export Options: Plottr allows writers to export their outlines to other writing applications, such as Scrivener and Word. This makes it easy to move from planning to drafting without losing any important information.

Pricing

Annual Plan: $25 per year

Lifetime Plan: $99 one-time payment

How Plottr Enhances Worldbuilding and Story Planning

Plottr's visual approach to story planning makes it an invaluable tool for worldbuilding and complex story planning. The Timeline View allows writers to see the big picture and ensure that their story flows smoothly. The character and plot templates help writers develop well-rounded characters and cohesive plots. The drag-and-drop interface and filtering options make it easy to organize and rearrange story elements, ensuring that nothing gets lost in the process. Overall, Plottr is a powerful and user-friendly tool that can help writers bring their stories to life.

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Each of the applications we’ve explored - Obsidian, Scrivener, Campfire, World Anvil, and Plottr - offers unique features that cater to different aspects of writing. By integrating these tools into your workflow, you can unlock new levels of creativity and efficiency.

Are you ready to take your writing to the next level? Dive into these applications and discover which one resonates with your creative process. And don’t forget to follow us for more insights, tips, and recommendations on the best tools and practices for writers. Your next great story is just a click away!

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part one (chapters 1-3) story info • next part

word count: 6.1k

content warnings: mentions of homophobia and depression

Lily

Transferring to University of Connecticut in my junior year was my final lifeline.

No one has actually verbalised that but it was an unspoken understanding.

Everyone in my life, back home in Boston knew that coming to UConn was a fresh start for me and a second opportunity at life.

I started my college career at UMass in my home state of Massachusetts. Going to college was just another thing on my list to tick off to pacify my family. Unlike my high school peers, I never aspired to go to college, in fact I didn't think I'd be alive by the time it came around.

"You must be Lily!" A sweet voice pulled me from my inner monologue as I stood in my new bedroom, boxes surrounding me.

"Yes!" I spun around to see a brown haired, brown eyed girl stood in my doorway. I flashed her my biggest, bravest smile.

Fake it till you make it.

"I'm Kelsey." She introduced herself coming closer.

Being a junior, I opted to live in an apartment for my time here at UConn. Four people, four bedrooms. That way I had my own space but still the option to mingle in our shared living room and kitchen. I knew I was sharing with three other girls as there was a paper with all our names listed on the table when I entered the apartment a few hours ago.

Kelsey

Madison

Hannah

and me, Lily.

"Nice to meet you." I say and Kelsey hugs me tight, its a warm hug and I can tell its not just a pleasantry, Kelsey feels kind and that relaxes me immediately.

"Looks like we're the first to arrive, how long have you been here?" She asks looking around at the numerous open boxes with my possessions spilling out of them.

"A few hours - how about you?" I bounce the question back to my new roommate.

"Oh I got here last night. Just took a walk around to familiarise myself. I lived on the complete other-side of campus last year but wanted to upgrade for my junior and senior year." She explained.

"I expect a tour at some point then." I joke but Kelsey nods enthusiastically, "Of course! Did you live off campus last year?"

"No. Well, yes - I lived in a whole different state. I just transferred from UMass." I tell her.

I decide to keep my explanation of why I transferred clean and concise.

Massachusetts was not for me.

I was born and raised there and needed something new. I'm not ashamed of my life and what has happened, I'm just very aware that not everyone needs to know everything about me.

Not yet anyway.

And besides, this is supposed to be a fresh start and how can there be any truth in that if I spend my time talking about the past.

Kelsey stayed in my room for the next few hours and helped me unpack the majority of my stuff. Things were starting to look normal rather than like a bomb had just exploded, I was thankful for the help.

I learned a lot about Kelsey in the time we spent filling my wardrobe and organising my dresser. She was studying Education as she wanted to be a preschool teacher. She was also from New England - New Hampshire to be precise (East Coast girlies unite). She was a party girl and insisted on showing me the bars near-by. She was newly single and was making it her junior year goal to stay that way.

Me too. But I didn't mention that.

Her favourite colour was red which looking at her now, was obvious. She sported a red baby tee and had her nails painted the exact same shade. She couldn't function without a morning coffee.

Me too. I did mention that.

I liked Kelsey a lot.

"So Kinesiology..." She started mentioning my choice of major.

"Yes - it was kind of a last minute decision. I love sport, especially soccer and I knew I needed to study something that I could relate to a hobby or I would have lost interest." I laughed.

"Do you play soccer?" I shook my head immediately, "God no. I have absolutely no athletic ability I just love watching it." I say as we sit on my bed side by side, backs against the wall.

Watching soccer, whether it be on TV or in real life was the only time my brain truly shut off. I was too focused on where the ball was, who it was being passed to, how well the pass was being executed and if the net would ripple at the end of a well thought out play to focus on anything else.

"I suppose ninety minutes of tight kits and sweaty bodies isn't a bad view." Kelsey giggled and I couldn't argue.

"Do you watch or play any sports?" I turn my body to Kelsey slightly giving her my attention, I preferred talking about others.

"Definitely don't play. As for watching, I make myself present if theres a big tournament on, usually at the bar mind you." She points a finger at me matter of factly.

"But enough about me. I feel like I've told you my life story and all I know about you is you're a Bostonian who loves soccer. Tell me something fun! Are you dating anyone? What's your type?" She asks eyebrows wiggling at me.

I contemplate my answer carefully not knowing how to broach the subject. Kelsey makes me feel like I can trust her but in reality I've known her less than 12 hours so don't actually know her. I remind myself why I'm here: to start afresh. I decide to be honest, I spent way too long hiding who I really was.

"I'm not dating anyone." I confess, the words feeling foreign even though its the truth. "My last relationship didn't end so well. In fact, it almost ended me." I quip making light of a not so light time in my life not so long ago. "Oh no, I'm sorry Lily. I'll kill the guy if I ever meet him." She says seriously, hands balled into fist as if she's a boxer preparing to go into the ring.

Here goes nothing.

"The girl." I say correcting her. "You'll kill the girl if you ever meet her." I stay silent trying to read Kelseys reaction to the fact that I'm gay. Living in America you never know what to expect when you reveal something like that, I just hoped mine and Kelseys newfound friendship wasn't about to come to a premature end.

"I have no problem beating a bitch up." The brunette says flicking her hair off her shoulder. I breathe a sigh of relief, the revelation doesn't seem to have bothered her in the slightest. "My sisters lesbian and I've heard enough stories to know girls are just as bad a guys. Maybe you should join the sisterhood of single juniors." She says, raising an eyebrow putting her hand between us for me to place mine on top and join the unofficial club. I hesitate because deep down I'm a lover girl and despite my heart being in a million pieces right now I know I want to love again.

"Hey, there's no contract. You can leave at anytime and theres no rules that say we can't have fun." Kelsey playfully reassures sensing my hesitation so I place my hand on top of hers, "Single sisters!" We both giggle, Kelsey leaning her body into mine so our shoulders are touching.

This feels like the perfect start to my life in Connecticut.

I left Boston broken. Brokenhearted and mentally in pieces.

My once big friendship group had dwindled down to one best friend. My ever growing confidence had come to a halt and years of therapy was thrown down the drain.

My Sophomore year was turbulent at best, coming to terms with my sexuality was a journey and then being outed was crushing and too much for me to handle. Managing my emotions has always been a problem of mine, I feel everything or I feel nothing. Both ends of the spectrum can be scary and dangerous and I did stupid things and made an almost irreversible decision.

UConn and Kelsey feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.

Madison and Hannah showed up at some point that evening. The girls had been roommates their Freshman and Sophomore year so already knew each other well. Kelsey and I introduced ourselves and we decided as a group, pizza for dinner was the best way to spend our first night together. We spoke and ate in the living area of our apartment until tiredness took over us one by one.

As I lay in my new bed in my new room I think of the days and weeks to come. I want to start off the best I can, give myself the best opportunity to love life again. Starting tomorrow, my goal was to find a student job on campus. Classes would take up most of my time but I needed pretty much all of my time filled, that way my mind wouldn't stray. I also wanted to scope out the sports. UConn was known for their amazing athletics program and I couldn't wait to be watching games again.

Oh and of course Kelsey wants to go to a bar tomorrow night, Hannah and Madison too so I close my eyes preparing for a busy day ahead, the melatonin I'd taken kicking in.

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My first day in Storrs as a student at UConn was going better than expected.

Kelsey had showed me her favourite coffee place and it had lived up to her hype. I got my usual order of an iced caramel latte with soya milk. I had unintentionally made myself lactose intolerant after being vegan for a few years. I was no longer vegan but dairy refused to be introduced back into my diet. While we sipped our drinks she gave me the grand tour of campus and then Downtown Storrs. It reminded me a lot of Boston which was bittersweet but I focused on the sweet.

"And that," She says pointing to one of the buildings with a huge Huskies sign, "is the infamous Huskies! The best bar around...well, the only bar around but never-mind. That's where we're going tonight." My roommate tells me and does a little dance which makes me laugh.

We finished our coffees on the walk back to campus and Kelsey dropped me off at the Athletics building where I was going to enquire about a student job. I had checked online and there were a few available, I just had to apply. I figured showing my face would make me stand out compared to the many applicants I'm sure admissions would have to choose from. It also gave me an opportunity to check the team rosters and schedule. I became friends with a lot of the student athletes at UMass because I went to so many games, it made me wonder if that would be the case here at UConn.

Walking into the building, it was obvious there was a gym inside I could hear what I assumed to be people working out. Music blasted through speakers though it was muffled by the closed doors and the clanging of weights dropping further verified my assumption.

The doors were closed as I walked passed what I now know is the weight room from the sign outside. My curiosity tempted me to peek inside the room as I heard a cacophony of voices, girls voices for sure.

I was stopped in my tracks, "Hi, can I help you?" The voice came from an older woman, I looked to her and smiled, "Yes please. I'm looking for the main office, here to enquire about a student job this semester." I explained.

"Oh wonderful - follow me, I'm Janet. Head of admissions for the Athletic Department."

I followed Janet down a few corridors and up a set of stairs before reaching the office. The walls along the way all adorned with various UConn teams holding trophies and medals covered in confetti. It was clear they were no strangers to winning here.

"So we have a few positions on offer is semester. I suppose it depends on what kind of role you're looking for." Janet says sitting behind her desk and inviting me to sit facing her.

"I'm studying Kinesiology so I'm just grateful to have the opportunity to work within the Athletics department at all. I'd be happy with anything." I say and truly mean it.

"What is your schedule like?" Janet asks.

"My classes are most days until 4 or 5pm. Wednesday's are completely free as are evenings and weekends." I tell her.

"Hm OK, we have a position here for a Communications Intern. You'll be assisting with post and pre game press conferences and social media posts. You'll be at most home games on the sidelines, taking notes for our journalists to write in articles and pictures to post on our socials - nothing professional of course, we have photographers for that but the fans like to see some behind the scenes on game days." Janet reads off her screen before looking up at me with a raised brow, "How does that sound?"

"That sounds great!" I replied enthusiastically, "As a fan of sports myself, hopefully I can show game days from a new angle."

"Amazing! Our womens teams are gaining a lot more traction, not just on campus so I'm positive fans who can't make it to games in person will be grateful." Janet smiles, typing a few words then standing from her desk. "I've put your name down - at the top of the list in bold - it's always nice when applicants come and see us face to face." I smile to myself knowing that would be the case.

"Thank you for making time to see me." I say to Janet, shaking her extended hand before she leads me out of the office. "My pleasure."

Outside of Janets office is a huge ceiling to floor window with a perfect overview of the gym below. I was correct earlier, there are people working out and it is girls. I stop momentarily to take in the view below me, my mind automatically goes to my major and I wonder what paths these girls are on. Are any of them injured or coming back from injury? I'm immediately intrigued as I watch them perform different exercises.

"Those are our basketball girls." Janet breaks my daydream. "I suspect you'll be working with them a lot this semester."

I turn to her my eyes slightly widened, does that mean I've secured the job?

"If your application is successful of course." She smirks but its a knowing smirk that puts me at ease.

"Oh, and thats Kayla." She points out a specific girl in the gym, dressed differently from the others and considerably shorter so I immediately assume she's not on the team. "She works here in the main office with me. She's a great girl to know, I'll introduce you."

I follow Janet back down the stairs and through the same corridors we took less than thirty minutes ago. This time I take more care as I look at the pictures on the walls, the basketball team seem to take up the majority. I spot names like Sue Bird and Diana Taurasi which I am familiar with but not too much, in all honesty I've never watched a full game of basketball in my life. As we get closer to the end of the corridor where the pictures get more recent I notice one girl in particular, a blonde, she seems to always be in the middle of group photos, her teammates looking at her with admiration. Her smile contagious, making me smile as if I'm in the picture myself.

"Prepare yourself." Janet laughs as we approach the weight room door. "What for?" I ask now not so curious about going inside as I was earlier. "They're a lively lot." Is all she says before pushing open the door.

I take a sharp inhale, anxiety creeping in as I follow Janet into the room of athletes.

Every single one of my senses was hit walking into the weight room. The noises that were once muffled by the closed doors were now loud and clear. The room was significantly colder than the rest of the building for obvious reasons but I wrapped my arms around myself nonetheless. Thanks to my deep inhale on walking in, I was only now getting a waft of what smelt like a mix of sweat and fruit. I say a silent prayer that its the girls in here because I know for a fact it would be sweat mixed with more sweat if it was the boys. My eyes scanned the room quickly taking in what I just seen from above. I recognised some of the girls from the photos on the walls, not the blonde though. She wasn't here. Maybe she was a senior and had graduated already, a shame if that is the case.

"Hello ladies." Janet calls over the booming music. One by one the girls turn their attention to us and smile or wave and I return the pleasantries.

"A new commit?" I hear a voice behind me ask before feeling a hand press down on each of my shoulders. I unconsciously tense at the surprise contact.

"No, no. This is Lily - a junior here. She just applied for a job in the department so I'm showing her around." Janet explains and the girl that just had her hands on my shoulders walks in front of me revealing herself.

"Oh damn my bad, I got excited for a second." She laughed a little embarrassed, "I'm KK, nice to meet you." The girl introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, KK." I smile at the basketball player and she goes to join the rest of girls who are now teasing her for basically jumping on my back. I didn't mind, it just caught me off guard. Besides, I'd rather these girls be overly friendly than cold and moody especially if I'll be working with them soon.

"I'm Paige." A slender hand extends itself to me, coming from the same direction KK came from. I take the hand in mine before looking to see who exactly 'Paige' was. "Hi-" my words get lodged in my throat.

There she was.

The girl from the photos. The blonde with the contagious smile and, I'm now realising, extremely blue eyes like the bluest eyes I've ever seen.

I compose myself quickly, "Hi Paige, I'm Lily." I manage without stuttering as I shake the girls hand before letting go, somewhat reluctantly.

Her hand was bigger than mine and it was warm pressed against my palm, my hand tingled where her touch just was.

"What's your major?" She asks and she seems genuinely interested.

"Kinesiology." I reply, turning my full attention to Paige, my back now to Janet.

"Interesting! You'll get along perfect here, lots of bad knees." She says lifting her leg showing off a nasty scar before tapping me on the shoulder and joining KK and the others.

"Lily hasn't got the job yet, Paige." Janet called after the girl who turned around, "You know what to do Jan!" She called back with a grin.

The girls giggled as she joined them and she playfully shoved one of them away. I couldn't hear their hushed words over the music but the way Paige glanced back at me, making direct eye contact, made me think it was about me or maybe I was just delusional hoping the pretty girl was in fact talking about me. I quickly averted my gaze.

The type of scar and placement on Paige's knee made me assume she had suffered an ACL tear. Tough, if I was correct. ACLs are a horrible injury to face but I can tell by the way she squats with a barbell rested on her shoulders, her form perfect, posture just right that it was healed. Suddenly my gaze was no longer diverted and I was just staring.

Janet introduced me to Kayla and we spoke for a few minutes, mainly about Kayla's role and how excited she would be if I joined the team as, and I quote, "The Athletics Department needed more girls behind the scenes."

We left the weight room together, Janet bidding us farewell at the door and Kayla and I walking to the exit of the building side by side.

"Welcome to UConn, by the way. I'm guessing you transferred here? I haven't seen you around before." Kayla says to me.

"Thank you! Yes, I just transferred from Massachusetts. So far, so good." I smile as we step outside into the warm August weather.

"It really is great here. Give me your number and we'll meet up, I know you just met Paige and KK but I'll introduce you to the others as well." She says pulling her phone from her back pocket and handing it to me.

I type my number in her phone saving my contact as Lily Kent - my full name. "That will be fun, thank you. I only know my roommates at the moment so I appreciate it." I hand Kayla back her phone.

"Thats the perks of working in sports, you make whole teams of friends." She says proudly.

"I need as many as I can get, it's kinda scary being the new girl. Maybe I'll meet some more tonight, we're going to a bar." I tell my, hopefully, new friend.

"Not the famous Huskies?" Kayla asks sending me a quizzical look. "Yes! The famous Huskies." I laugh, seems like this place has quite the reputation. "Perfect! We'll see you there then."

"We'll"? We all? As in possibly Paige? Suddenly I need to go back to the apartment take an everything shower, beat the hell out of my face and put together the best outfit I own.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

I wrapped myself in my robe and stepped out of the bathroom. All three of my roommates were in the living area of our apartment. "Hey guys!" I chirped, strolling into my room.

"Hey Lils, what are you wearing tonight?" Hannah asked following me into my bedroom. I looked back at her and we both glanced around my room and laughed.

Before taking a shower I attempted to choose an outfit which had resulted in me tearing my wardrobe apart, clothes now covering the majority of my bed and floor.

"Ok girl, never fear - Hannah is here." Hannah reassured sitting slap bang in the middle of the floor reaching for random items of clothing. "It's definitely a casual vibe but also our first night out. Not all students are back on campus yet but the athletes are so arguably thats even more of a reason to look good." She side eyed me from her place on the floor.

Could Hannah read my mind?

I hadn't mentioned my interaction or reaction to Paige to any of my roommates yet. Mainly because I had made a pact with Kelsey to stay single - not that Paige was in anyway trying to make me her girlfriend but also because I knew we'd probably see her tonight and three tipsy girls around their friends crush well, it wouldn't stay a secret lets just say that.

I also deep down knew that it was probably way too soon for me to even be thinking about another relationship but I can admire from afar right?

I was with my ex-girlfriend for almost two years before it finally ended in May, three months ago. 21 out of the 22 months we dated, we kept our relationship a secret from pretty much everyone. My best friend, Emma knew but that was it. That was the way we both wanted it, neither of us were out and we enjoyed sneaking around and having a genuinely private, private life.

That was until April when I accidentally left my phone in the library and it was found by someone who I thought was my friend. I stupidly had a picture of me and my girlfriend kissing as my lock screen. My phone was returned to me and everyone acted normal, I thought they hadn't noticed. Until that night, a picture of my lock screen was posted into our group chat and all hell broke loose. I felt physically sick at the words used to describe me and my girlfriend.

I was told I was sick, I needed help, I needed to find God and repent. I was told I was better off dead. It all very quickly became too much and I removed myself from the group chat and hoped to avoid the girls that were a part of it.

Unfortunately, there was no avoiding one another when your families knew each other. My girlfriend and I were promptly outed to all of our friends and families against our wishes. It put a lot of pressure on us. I was lucky to have kept a best friend in Emma. She stood by my side when nobody else did. My family were understanding, confused for a while but they came round and accepted me for who I am.

My girlfriend wasn't as lucky and that is what ultimately broke us apart. I don't blame her, she chose a relationship with her family and not being disowned over me. I can't blame her.

I blamed myself though. Me and my stupid lock screen had ruined us. I quickly fell into a downward spiral that was impossible to save myself from. I was drowning and I didn't know how to swim. I have a history of depression and I stopped taking my medication, I had lost all will to even try and continue with life and one night I decided I was done.

Life was not worth living if it was like this.

"Ok! How about this skirt, with this top?" Hannah asked holding up a distressed mini denim skirt and black bandeau top.

I looked at the outfit in her hands seeing the vision. "Yes, but swap the top for this one." I say holding up a long sleeve black shirt instead.

"Girl, it's August and we're going to be inside. You do not need long sleeves." I swallowed, I knew this would come up sooner or later. "Yes I do." Was all I said and luckily Hannah dropped the subject and threw me my skirt.

"Get ready! I'm going to change, we're leaving in an hour." The blonde girl stood up from my bedroom floor and left me alone to get dressed.

"Here, drink up." Kelsey placed a red cup, full to the brim, on my desk as I applied my mascara, finishing off my makeup.

"What's this?" I ask not waiting for an answer before taking a swig of the unknown drink. Vodka. It was definitely vodka and something else. I winced at the intensity of the cocktail. "It's the Kelsey Special of course!" My roommate laughed taking a sip from her own cup.

"Oh close your eyes!" She said doing a little jump, "I have a surprise for you."

“A surprise? For me?” I say doing as she says.

"Ok open!" I opened my eyes to see Kelseys hand opened in front of me, a danity string bracelet laying in her palm. "What's this?" I ask taking the thread into my own hands and admiring the intricate plait it was braided into. "It's official Single Sisters merch, duh!" She exclaims taking it back from me and tying it around my left wrist, she held up her own wrist showing off her matching bracelet. "I love them Kels!" I smile as I get up and pull her into a hug, "Thank you." "You're so welcome Lils, now lets get drunk!" And with that she drags me out of my bedroom, drinks in hand, into the kitchen where Hannah and Madison are pouring shots.

By the time we reach Huskies, its safe to say I'm tipsy. I'm not sure how many shots were consumed back at the apartment but I had another cup of the Kelsey Special and my body felt tingly and almost numb, it felt nice. I wasn't new to drinking and I knew my limit so I knew I'd be fine. We each got a drink as soon as we entered the bar and headed straight for the dance floor. The bar was decently busy, I scanned the room, no sign of Kayla...or Paige.

I'm not sure how long I had been dancing with my roommates before I felt an arm drape over my shoulders, "Hey hottie!" I flicked my head round and was met with Kaylas smiling face. "Oh my god, hiii!" I exclaim pulling her in for a hug, the alcohol had definitely hit. "These are my roommates! Kelsey, Hannah and Madison." I say pointing at the three girls individually, Kayla introduced herself as I finished the remainder of my drink.

"Come meet the girls!" Kayla shouted over the loud music, ushering us through the crowd over to a table in the corner of the bar.

She went around the entire group aquainting us with each other. I was now able to put names to the faces of the girls I'd seen in the gym earlier in the day.

Ice, Nika, Aliyah, Azzi, Aubrey and Jana.

"And of course you already met KK and Paige." Kayla says pointing behind me as Paige and KK approached us, multiple drinks in each of their hands.

I'm unsure whether it was the copious amounts of alcohol in my system or the moody low lighting of the bar but Paige looked particularly majestic as she sauntered over to the group. She had this vibe that seemed to follow her. Multiple heads turned in her direction and something told me she knew how hot she was.

KK was quick to put down the drinks she held and embrace me, I hugged the girl back taking in her sweet scent. Paige wasn't so quick, she handed drinks to her teammates and they thanked her before she turned her attention to me and my roommates. She introduced herself to Kelsey, Hannah and Madison giving them all a quick side hug.

"Hi Lily." She says, her eyes looking directly into mine. I have to look up slightly, the girl has some inches on me, "Hello Paige!" I can't help the stupid grin that spreads across my face as she leans in to hug me, not like the other girls, I'm encapsulated by both her arms, I swear if I was a cartoon character this is the moment my eyes would turn into red love hearts. Her scent was different from KKs, more vanilla-y, musky almost, warm.

"First time in Huskies calls for one thing: INITIATION SHOTS!" Nika says pulling me from Paige and leading me to the bar, her hands on my shoulders.

Once we all have a shot in our hands, Nika looks at me, "Ok one fact about you that no one knows!" She says pursing her lips.

God, the list was endless.

"I'm allergic to nuts." That was the most mundane fact that came to my mind.

"And not just the food kind!" Kelsey exclaims making the girls laugh before we knock back our shots.

Kelseys joke seemed to either go over everyones head or life really was different here in Connecticut and no one hated me because I was gay. Either way I felt comfortable around these girls, welcomed and it was a nice feeling.

I was reaching my limit but still found myself stumbling slightly towards the bar.

"Easy there." A hand grabbed my elbow balacing me before I was able to steady myself. "Thank you." I giggled and my words came out slurred.

I had definitely reached my limit but I waved the bar man over. "Vodka cranberry please!" I ordered feeling the hand move from my elbow to my lower back.

Who the hell was this?

I turned my gaze to my left seeing a guy slightly taller than me with brown shaggy hair smirking down at me. With one hand occupied on my lower back, the other dug into his pocket and he pulled out his card, "Let me get this for you." He says as he goes to pay for my drink. "No, it's OK." I say simply, trying to shrug him off. "Let me." He insists pulling me closer to him.

I was starting to feel uncomfortable when I felt his arm get yanked off of me, "She said it's OK, bro." Paige had inserted herself between me and the creep and gave him a light shove away. "Are you OK?" She asks looking at me sincerely, brows furrowed together. I nod, "I'm fine." I say as I pay for my drink. "Are you sure?" She double checks. "I promise, Paige. I've dealt with worse than a drunk guy in a bar." I reassure her. "As long as you're OK." She says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we walk back to the table her teammates were once gathered around.

Paige sits down at the booth and I intently watch as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and reajusted her t-shirt.

"You like what you see?" Paige is smirking now and I've been caught red handed.

"I um- I-"

Pull yourself together Lily!

"I wasn't staring." I defend myself lazily. Paige laughs, "But you were staring in the gym earlier." She says matter of factly, raising her brows at me.

I feel my cheeks burn, well and truly red handed.

"What?" Is all I can manage as a response.

"The walls are mirrored babe, just because you were behind me doesn't mean I didn't see you." If it was even possible, my cheeks got hotter with embarrassment.

"Cocky much?" I taunt the basketball player before taking a long, needed sip of my drink.

"When it makes you this flustered, yes." She says reaching out for my wrist, pulling me to sit next to her.

We're so close our legs are touching and I can smell the mix of vanilla and musk again. "Tell me something about yourself Lily. Something other than your allergy to nuts...not just the food kind." Oh god.

I muster every sober fibre inside of me to think of something that doesn't qualify as a trauma dump. I look down at my hands, the bracelet Kelsey gifted me earlier poking out of the bottom of my sleeve.

"I joined a club!" I say waving my arm up showing off the bracelet.

"Oh yeah, what club?" Paige questions, head slightly tilted. "Single sisters!" I say proudly. "It's just me and Kelsey at the moment but we made a pact to stay single all of junior year." I tell Paige about mine and my roommate's promise to each other.

She hooks a finger through the bracelet, her knuckle grazing my skin softly, and tugs gently. "Hey!" I pull my arm away afraid she'll break the delicate thread. "What are you doing?" I frown. "Just checking how secure that thing is." She looks at me with that god forsaken eye contact that she's so good at. "Wouldn't want it breaking." She says eyes still locked onto mine.

"Lilyyyyy." I begrudgingly look away from Paige to see Madison practically being held up by Kelsey and Hannah.

I thought I was drunk.

"I think it's home time." Paige says into my ear, her breath hot on my neck.

"Hi Mads." I say standing up, ignoring the fact Paiges breath had spiked my heart rate. "I think we should get her home." Hannah says and I nod turning to grab my bag.

Well, well, well.

I catch Paige, staring, right at me, I smirk to myself.

One point to Lily.

I bend slightly to pick my bag up off the table, "Looks like we both have a staring problem." I say quiet enough for just Paige to hear and quickly turn on my heel following my friends out of the bar.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.3

You can read the whole story on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here.

---

Danny was big. Like seriously big, with a tall frame and wide shoulders, but Tim didn’t think he had been for very long. He still moved his body as if he wasn’t quite used to the size of it yet. Maybe Tim should have been intimidated, but he was too used to big enemies and siblings to really take notice. 

No, what he had taken notice of was the prosthesis making up the other's left arm. A prosthesis that Tim would bet his whole hidden stash of coffee in the Batcave was homemade, a fact that had spurred him to start talking with the guy when he had spotted him sitting alone at lunch.

A prosthesis that currently lay on the table between Tim and Danny where they sat in an otherwise empty room usually used for construction and prototype testing.

Tim hovered with his hands over the arm as he looked up at Danny and asked for the third time, “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded, straightening the liner covering his now exposed upper arm. “Yeah, man. I’ve been doing this solo ever since— well, since I got it. If you could help me work out some kinks that would be great!”

Tim let his hands fall to the prosthesis, tilting it this way and that to get a better look at it as he took in the patchwork of metal. He didn't have any trouble believing that no one else had worked on it as it was clearly cobbled together from whatever Danny had been able to find. The soldering was stable, but looked patchy from where it had been stretched thin to cover what it needed to.

It was an impressive piece of machinery to have been made by one person, even more so from what were clearly scrap-pieces, but if Tim was being honest the most impressive thing was that it moved at all.

Considering its weight, its many functions, and the length at which Danny could use it without charge, there was no known source that could possibly power it. 

Danny had given him some vague explanation of batteries, sustainable energy, self-sufficiency, and a whole lot of nonsensical buzzwords. Tim might not be an expert in prosthetics, but even he knew that it wasn't possible to have batteries big enough to sustain it for a whole day, and small enough to keep the arm as lightweight as it was.

“So,” Tim said as he placed the arm back on the table. “What do you need help with?”

Danny looked up from where he was fiddling with the fingers of the prosthesis. “I can’t get the thumb to move but I'm thinking of adding something to make the articulation of the fingers better, so if you have any ideas about that I would love to hear it.” He perked up, “Oh! I also need to make it lighter, I think, so that I can keep it on for the whole day. It’s starting to become too heavy for me.” Danny gave a strained laugh. “Not getting any younger, you know?”

Tim didn't buy the excuse of age, Danny wasn't old by any means and he certainly was big enough to be able to support the weight, but he had noted that Danny didn't use the arm every day. Which meant that there was another reason for it. 

“Is this related to your… Illness?” Tim asked carefully.

Danny didn’t answer. Which in itself was answer enough.

“Can I ask… What it is?”

He really didn’t want to pry, but maybe Danny didn’t seek out treatment because he lacked the money for it. If so, Tim found that he wanted to help. “If it’s a question of money, then I can—”

“It’s not,” Danny cut him off. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Alright.” Tim dropped the subject as he reached for a small, closed hatch at the underside of the arm. “What’s this part? The power source, right?”

He had just managed to get it open an inch, peeking inside to see something glowing green when Danny snapped the lid shut with a harsh, “Don't touch that.”

Tim held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.”

Danny kept his eyes narrowed and fixed on Tim a second longer, but then relaxed. “No, I'm sorry. I just—It feels personal, okay?”

“Hey, no worries. I get it,” Tim assured him, trying to curb his own curiosity by reminding himself to feel grateful that Danny had trusted him enough to let him work on the arm to begin with. “Thanks for letting me take a look at it.”

“I know it’s not much,” Danny said self-consciously.

It was, but Tim understood what he meant; understood the frustration of being restricted by material things. Tim would love to see what Danny could do with better materials, and there were some benefits to being the son of the richest guy in town. 

“I might have some materials lying around, if you're interested. And I might have an idea about that thumb.”

Danny's whole face lit up.

Tim realized that they were actually starting to become friends. Wish meant that there was only one thing he could do in this situation.

——

Tim scanned the results of the background check he had just completed on Danny.

He had come up clean. Almost too clean. But he also came from a small city in the middle of nowhere; maybe there hadn’t been that many opportunities to get into trouble in Amity Park.

Tim had found no signs that Danny was in any way out to get them, which was great since Tim really didn’t have the time and energy to fight some new villain pretending to be his work-friend and coffee-buddy. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He did trust in Wayne Enterprise’s HR-department (and security department’s) ability to screen new employees but since he had started to run into Danny more often he wanted to investigate himself. But to his surprise, those accidental meetings seemed to just be actually accidental. So even if Tim had been burned one too many times, Danny was starting to look like an actually nice guy. No matter his big size, slightly uncanny looks, and cobbled together technology. The villains can’t get all the cool people, Tim thought smugly and found that he was more relieved than he wanted to admit that Danny had come up clean.

“A new friend?” Dick asked with a raised eyebrow and an infuriating smirk as he leaned over the back of Tim’s chair to get a better look at the screen.

“A colleague,” Tim corrected distractedly as he scanned the documents.

Danny almost seemed too perfect; a friend factory-made to suit Tim.

He liked coffee, he was witty, not afraid to tease him even though Tim was his boss, quick-witted, and had a big interest in technology and inventions. A fact that was proven in his work as well as his prosthetic arm.

In truth, Tim had already started to sneak Danny some projects under the table. Not bat-classed project, but… Maybe some personal things he had under development and would like a second pair of eyes on. And Danny’s insights had proven to be invaluable. Tim looked over his shoulder at the still-smirking Dick. Danny was also non-judgmental and non-infuriating, in contrast to certain other people that should not be named.

As if hearing his thoughts, Dick laughed and nudged his shoulder. “This is a thorough check for a colleague.”

Tim averted his eyes. Maybe it had been longer than he thought since he made a normal friend.

Dick smiled. “I’m glad it came up clean. You could really need some more friends.” 

Dick ignored Tim’s outraged “Hey!” as he scanned over the document before pausing with a frown. “Amity Park? Where's that?”

“No idea.” Tim clicked away on the computer. “Apparently a small town that mostly makes its living as a tourist trap. And their draw is…” Tim trailed off as he digested the last word before exclaiming, “Seriously?!”

Dick leaned in. “What?”

“Ghosts. The whole town claims to be haunted by ghosts.”

“Alright? That's eccentric, but it's not that strange.”

“No, it's just…” Tim dragged a hand through his hair. “It's the second time lately that ghosts have come up.”

And he really didn't want to associate Danny with the two lunatics from a couple of months ago.

“Well, maybe it’s a sign that you should change careers and become a ghost hunter! Can you imagine? A superhero ghosthunter!” Dick laughed and punched him in his shoulder.

Tim snorted and swatted at him. They were really lucky that ghosts weren't real.

——

Of course, after foolishly tempting fate, ghosts stayed not real for far shorter than Tim would have preferred. It wasn’t even a month later when his entire worldview reoriented itself (and really, he should be used to that by now) as that belief died and didn’t come back to life. Which seemed to be a rarity all of a sudden.

At first, they hadn't realized what they were; seemingly harmless and, most unsettlingly, impossible to catch. The blobby apparition had fazed through any and all containment devices they had tried to capture them in, and more often than not they hadn't even been able to touch them. None of their sensors worked, just spouting nonsense readings that fluctuated wildly.

The blobs were hard to handle but thankfully they weren't very destructive since they mostly caused confusion and some accidents brought on by gawking bystanders.They weren’t really attacking anyone—yet, the cynical part of Tim’s mind added—but they were causing enough of a panic to be a problem.

Thankfully, Gothamites generally knew to keep well away from new and unknown possible threats.

The real problem was that they had no idea what they were dealing with and no idea on how to make it go away, but overall Gotham’s green and glowing new decor didn’t really take president over all the daily attacks from both villains and normal criminals.

Tim had foolishly (once again, damn it Tim) believed that was it.

And then he got a message on his communicator masquerading as a cellphone summoning him to the cave for a new type of threat. Tim straightened up from where he had been sprawled over Danny's sagging armchair. “I'm sorry, I have to go. Something came up.”

“Oh?” Danny looked up, eyes immediately jumping from the video game on the TV to Tim. “You okay?”

Tim waved him off, feeling a bit guilty at the clear worry on his friend's face. “Yeah, yeah, nothing bad. Just… A family thing.”

Danny grimaced and Tim guessed he'd had his fair share of family things. He let go of the controller in his right hand, instead grabbing at his prosthetic left, rubbing at it as if in pain.

Tim got to his feet. “It was nice hanging out though. Same time next week?”

Danny's grimace immediately turned into a smile and even though it looked genuine, there was something strained at the corners. “Sure! Good luck with the family.”

There was real fear there, barely visible under the happiness. Tim reluctantly discarded the observation, reminding himself that his friend wasn't a mystery for him to solve. “Thanks. Good luck with the boss without me.”

Danny laughed and shucked a pillow at him. “As if your so-called skills make any difference.”

Tim ducked the soft projectile with a smile before leaving, mind already focusing on what new threat could have come up for him to be called in on one of his few nights off.

Said threat turned out to be an intangible, periodically invisible, glowing, and floating villain. All of those characteristics wouldn’t necessarily lead Tim to the conclusion that he was facing off against a ghost—Gotham was filled with a lot of weird people with even weirder powers—but what sealed the deal was the fact that this new villain just wouldn’t shut up about being one. The ghost of boxes, to be more specific.

Tim would say that he had higher hopes for his own afterlife, but who was he to judge?

And, sure, if that had been the end of it then maybe the easiest answer would have been that they were facing off against a man with very specific interests and an unfortunate chemical accident in his recent past (it had happened before, more than once) but now they were staring down a new villain every other week. All of them proudly proclaiming themselves to be ghosts, and all of them freaking every sensor and scan the Bats threw at them the fuck out.

So ghosts. Were apparently a thing.

Tim wished he was more surprised than he was.

So far, most ghost attacks would stop seemingly by themselves. The ghost in question would be mid-rant and mid-destruction, only for them to suddenly pause, eyes wide. Every time this happened, the ghost’s focus was directed at the group of innocent civilians unwisely trying to catch a glimpse of the action that always accumulated during attacks that weren't too destructive. Their leading theory was that the ghosts were simply scared of the living.

Which was lucky, because the ghosts were both frighteningly strong as well as too many for comfort. Tim was desperately looking for more dependable ways of combating them, but so far he had come up with nothing.

It was hard to fight an enemy you couldn't touch and they weren't used to feeling so powerless.

Which also meant that the small and round creatures that shared all the characteristics of the bigger ghosts, except for the fact that they were shaped more like jelly than people, were also—more than likely—ghosts. It had taken them a frankly embarrassing amount of time to reach that conclusion. Yes, Tim was well aware that Bruce was a world-known detective and that he himself was a genius. No, neither of them had mentioned this slow deduction to anyone.

All of this led up to Tim stumbling into work on a Wednesday, definitely late and definitely operating on way too little sleep. They had all stayed up late yesterday (or maybe it was today? It was hard to even think) facing off against a ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. Okay, facing off might have been an exaggeration. The truth of the matter was that they had ran. The risk of an unknown villain, someone with largely unknown powers and unknown motivations, getting into their tech had been enough of a threat to warrant a tactical retreat.

Which had proven to be a good choice since not even half an hour later there was an attack on their servers. And then another. And another. All of them seemingly from the same source. They had taken readings and scanned everything five times over, but the source of the attack seemed to adapt and change and move in a way that was almost… conscious.

Tim would swear off coffee forever if it turned out not to be the ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. They had been able to stay on top of the attacks but only barely, which was very worrying considering their top-of the line and frankly absurdly paranoid firewalls and assorted protections, as well as the fact that they had, well, Tim on their side.

He promised to never mock Bruce and his paranoid precautions again. At least for a week.

Thankfully they managed to contain the possible (probable) ghost in one of the computers stored in the basement by continuously upgrading and changing their fire walls. But this thing was learning and adapting faster than they could keep up with. It was only a matter of time before it broke out.

Too bad they had no idea who to reach out to. Or even where to start looking for a person who specialized in supernatural possession of computers. The science of ghost hunting didn’t exactly amass reputable scientists and inventors, or if it did, they were probably laying low so as to not get lumped in together with their more… eccentric colleagues. Understandably.

Which meant that trying to find a reputable expert on ghosts was as impossible as grabbing a hold of the ghosts themselves. But Tim knew that he would never be lucky enough for an expert to just stumble into his life, so they kept on searching.

So. No sleep. A whole work-day in front of him. If only he didn't have to keep up appearances. 

Tim tried to keep a brave face and go about his normal duties in his day job and nightly activities, but the threat hung heavy over his head. As well as the lack of sleep, but that didn’t feel as heroic.

Thankfully, his tiredness seemed to act as a homing beacon for his new friend and before he even sat down at his lunch table, Danny was there with two extra-large coffees.

Tim accepted one of them with teary eyes. “You’re a life-saver.”

Danny laughed. “At least I can keep you from joining me.”

And Danny did look tired. He always did.

He was holding his own coffee in his shaking right hand. Apparently the little tweaks and upgrades they had made on the arm hadn’t been enough to make it as reliable as he had wanted, if Danny chose not to use it. Instead it was hanging at his side, looking a little less cobbled together with a new top-plate and Tim felt happy knowing that Danny had taken him up on using the materials.

Tim had started to be able to anticipate what kind of day it was going to be just from how Danny held himself and today didn’t seem like a good one. He was still unsure of what exactly was wrong with his friend, but he was scared to ask again and risk offending him. Their relationship was still too new.

So Tim sipped his coffee and simply said, “I appreciate you keeping me alive.”

“We don’t need any more ghosts,” Danny muttered under his breath and took a sip from his own coffee.

The comment made Tim’s exhausted brain suddenly remember that Danny came from a town known for being haunted. It was a slim chance—since it probably was a cheap way of luring in tourists—but maybe Danny had some insights that could help them with the newly appeared ghosts. And especially the one trapped in the computer in the basement.

The only problem being that Danny had never revealed where he was from and Tim couldn't very well admit to doing a background check on him. That would probably ruin the mood since he was fairly certain that wasn't normal behavior between friends. Admittedly his perspective on what was normal or not was pretty skewed; something his siblings never hesitated to point out to him. Which was true, but they really didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to being normal. 

Tim made sure he sounded casual as he tapped the logo on his coffee cup and asked, “Hey, do they have Crabby Coffee where you’re from?”

Danny paused, something suspicious in his eyes. Then he smiled and asked in an almost casual tone of voice, “What, you don't believe I'm a local?”

Tim snorted. “You asked me if Arkham was an arcade just last week. Besides, you don’t have the right accent.”

“Fair,” Danny allowed with a shrug and a grin that was only slightly strained at the edges.

“So...?”

“I’m from Amity Park,” Danny said in a way that indicated that he didn’t like the fact, mumbling the last words as he looked away from Tim

Tim pretended to be surprised. “Amity? Never heard of it. Is it known for anything special?” And then he almost winced at his own clumsy and obvious fishing for information. Bruce would be so disappointed if he saw this. Okay, maybe he was more sleep-deprived than he thought.

It was lucky that Danny seemed distracted by some sort of inner conflict as he shuffled from foot to foot, not meeting Tim's gaze. “Well… It's a tourist thing…”

“Oh? Like what?” And now Tim was interested why Danny seemed so hesitant to share. Not a mystery, Tim reminded himself.

Danny deflated, looking defeated. “It's ghosts.” Then he switched to the overly-enthusiastic way of speaking inherent to all slogans, clearly mimicking some commercial, “Come on down to America's most haunted town! Guaranteed to scare the ghost right out of you!” and then in a fast paced mutter, “The city of Amity Park is not liable to retrieve any ghosts that decide to leave their bodies during your visit.”

Score.

“That's so cool!” Tim didn't even have to fake his interest as he asked, “Was it really? Haunted?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Danny hedged.

Tim gestured at Danny with his coffee cup. “I'm asking you.”

Danny paused with a worried frown on his face that he quickly tried to hide, looking at Tim intently as if he tried to work something out. Then he shook his head and simply said, “No.”

And it was the first time Tim had detected a lie from his new friend. Which meant that he did know something. Tim felt himself get excited at the prospect of a challenge, a mystery, and this time it was connected to their current problems which meant that it was fair game. He finally had a lead and he refused to let it go.

Why would Danny lie about his town being haunted? Was he scared of being made fun of? Didn’t he think that Tim would believe him? Ghosts was a rather eccentric thing for your town to be known for, maybe he had been ridiculed before.

Or maybe, a more jaded part of his brain supplied, he had been threatened to not say anything. Maybe he was hiding something.

Maybe Tim would have to show him some things related to ghosts and see how he reacted sooner rather than later.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It's not haunted.”

“Ah, so it's just a tourist trap, then? To make money?” Tim asked, trying to keep the excited interest out of his voice, trying to keep the conversation casual.

Danny wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, but it's nothing special. Just like any small town, you know?”

“Some people always take it a bit more seriously, right? There's always some believers,” Tim fished for more information. In every tourist attraction that claimed to be the home of Bigfoot or Mothman there was always someone who actually believed in what they were selling.

And if they believed, maybe they had some real information. Maybe even ways of combating them.

“Yeah, sure. There's those that believe and even—” Danny paused, swallowed, and then said, with real anger in his voice, “even some nut jobs that claim to study ghosts.”

Some people were studying ghosts? Tim made a mental note to look into them.

Danny cleared his throat as if embarrassed by his outburst and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Tim allowed the subject-change, not willing to push it and risk Danny suspecting him. “Haven’t you seen all the new villains on the news? They look kinda ghostly, don’t they?”

“Most newspapers write about them as if they’re a new kind of meta-humans.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tim shrugged. “But I don’t think ghosts would be much stranger.”

“You’re not scared?” Danny asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Of course!” Tim laughed. “But I don’t see why they would be more dangerous just because they’re dead. If anything, that only shows that they’ve already been killed once!”

Danny smiled at that and Tim took it as a win. His new friend might not feel comfortable opening up about everything just yet, but at least he could show that he’s open to talking about it when he was.

[noma-is-here]

i had some time to look more closely at the trailer, so i thought i'd make a post about some of the things i noticed. i’ll include some reference pictures so everyone knows what i’m talking about.

YAP SESSION UNDER THE CUT

at the beginning, when Kris, Susie and Ralsei are introduced, Kris seeks out Susie and helps her get up, while Ralsei simply joins them without Kris doing anything.

i feel this is somewhat representative of the relationship between our three protagonists. Kris seems to have a genuine interest in Susie (as does Susie in Kris), while Kris cares less about Ralsei in comparison. this also reflects tea theory of course.

this seems to be (at least in function) some kind of new soul mode (even though the soul’s colour doesn’t change). the colour of the projectiles here matches Spamton’s glasses, as well as Friend’s eyes. the pattern in the background seems also reminiscent of eyes to me.

i feel this sequence is probably somehow connected to Spamton, perhaps this is a battle against Mike, who might share Spamton’s glasses’ colour in some way.

also, this could be the room Toby was talking about in the Release Date Announcement Newsletter. it features two parallel and simultaneous areas of interaction, which could be a good opportunity to implement the mouse feature on two switch 2 joycons.

this rhythm segment shows the Delta Warriors performing on a stage. the box that shows Susie’s notes is blocked somehow, while Kris’s and Ralsei’s are accessible to the player. i feel like this reflects Susie’s actions from Ch. 1 somewhat, where the player couldn’t directly control her. it’ll be interesting to see whether this is because Susie’s relation with the Fun Gang gets worse again, or if this is just another “Susie casually rejects the Player’s control” moment.

some sort of glass (or maybe ice) seems to be falling in this scene. after Kris hangs onto the row of tiles, you can see a faint outline around the tile to the left of Kris, as well as a sort of progress bar before Kris jumps to the next tile. this leads me to believe this is some sort of climbing mechanic. perhaps this will be used in a real time climbing section. the falling glass indicates some kind of emergency, and the progress bar supports this as well (placing a time cost on the player in a situation when time isn’t important would be pointless).

on the top you can also see what seems to be stained glass windows. this leads me to believe that this is the location of the dark world of Ch. 4: the church. the stained glass windows would also explain the change in the colour palette.

in the “Chapter X is waiting” sequence, the footage for the first two chapters shows their respective main antagonists. this leads me to believe that what is shown for Ch. 3 & 4 is a sneak peak at the upcoming main antagonists.

the tv we see at the end of Ch. 2 is shown for Ch. 3. this practically confirms that this tv person, who is presumably Tenna (from antenna) is the antagonist of Ch. 3.

it gets a bit trickier for Ch. 4. Kris and Susie are running along a pathway made of large (glass?) tiles featuring the Delta Rune, while a bunch of small, black, fuzzy creatures with one white spot (perhaps an eye) are hunting them. the tiles light up as Kris steps onto them, and break shortly after.

This could either mean that Toby broke the pattern with the antagonists in order to keep Ch. 4 more mysterious, or the Ch. 4 antagonist is a sort of hive mind or a group of these small creatures.

the prevalence of the Delta Rune here is another point towards the fourth chapter being set in the church. another small detail is the rest of the tiles: it seems like the Vessel or Kris are pictured behind the Delta Rune.

then there’s the sepia tone animation at the end. the entity that the fun gang is standing in front of is too large to clearly make out, but it seems like multiple angel-like wings are unfolding to reveal the big star shape in the centre. i think it’s a pretty safe bet to assume that this is the angel, or at least something closely connected to it.

interestingly enough, the star shape at the centre of this entity connects it to the titans of the prophecy, which feature a very similar shape on their bodies. this likely means that the titans are also connected to the angel somehow, and are probably allied with it. i think this makes it also clear that the Roaring and the Angel’s Heaven are connected too; perhaps one follows from the other.

—

if you want some more yapping, i'd recommend TBSkyen's analysis of the trailer.

anyways, i'm tired (if i made a typo or smth, you now know why), so that's it from me for now.