#i think this is why my demonic teacher called me out in my dream

[tiny-breadcrumbs]

Of Pencil and Paper

(Trigger warning: mention of Sexual Assault and self harm)

People often ask why I stay with analog medium? The world is moving, digital art is growing fast and it does perform better on industrial scale. But I can never find how to answer that question without it sounded like I'm selling a sad story. So a lot of people only get the "I don't like it" answer. Short and simple. Yet sometimes, I can see the prejudice in their eyes, how arrogant, they said.

It's unhealthy. I almost conviced myself that I simply didn't like it when the root was deeper than that. It's easier to tell the lie, to sounds like an arrogant old school artist who dislike digital art with passion. No, never that. I like the texture of paper and the smell of wet paint. Not in the artistic sense, at least not at first, I found peace in that because they once saved me from my darkest days. Thus, they are familiar.

I always love a story. Consuming one or writing it myself. Yeah, I used to write. Ten years old me have a dream to be a novelist. And it all shattered when I'm thirteen. I'm sexually assaulted by one of the teacher in my school. At school hour, in an empty classroom because everyone else in a middle of morning prayer and I'm the only kid at that time with different believe. And everything spiralling down from there. It was a prestigious school I study hard to get in, that jerk used to be everyone favorite teacher including me, now, I saw that place like a hell on earth.

I never get justice. Never. Me and family being silenced for the sake of keeping the school reputation, with just a word of apology and so called promise to never repeat. As if the SA trauma can be healed like that. But world is unfair and the society is in the hand of the rich. My family is in minority from every aspect, ethnic, religion stance, society, even economy. The school even has the audacity to blackmailing us, they said I'm alone in the classrom that day because I've been writing porn on my book. The book they already confiscated and read. The book where thirteen years old me write a silly treasure hunt story. I've never saw that book again.

You see, I have a lot of issue at that time. We don't even have money to pay for therapist. Nor we can get a free counseling for victim because the case was never disclosed. The school have connection with the local police and I can just bury that injustice deep in me. At one point it almost reach a self harm. I used to scrubbing my skin until it was red, but the phantom hands still there, and I very tempted to peel it out. My family hid all the sharp object, I think I scare them badly. But I found a single pencil. Unfortunately (or fortunately) not sharp. I run it across my skin, but they didn't tear. So I take it on paper.

At first, maybe I'm doing art as some kind of therapy. I pour all that anger and disgust on paper, for months it was all angry lines and colours. The texture as I scratch the pencil, the slash of black it made across the white paper, it strangely satisfying. A little bit sadistic perhaps, because I'm doing it with the face of a demon that appear every night in my dreams, that person face. But my family keep giving me more paper, they told me to keep going. By the time I'm calm enough, when I finally graduate, I start to turn that lines into a drawing. I love a story. And because words now terrify me, I finally learn how to draw.

With times, I learn to enjoy it for the fun and all the beauty in it.

The thing is, all that sensory experience became a habit. I need to feel the paper, I need to hold a wooden pencil, a wooden brush, I need to smell the paint, so I feel safe enough to concentrate and lose myself in arts. So I can loosen up a little bit and not being so hypervigilant. Maybe I'm afraid the screen and digital art can't provide me that sense of safety. That smooth glide on the screen gave me dissasociative feeling and freak me out. I try it before and nope out so fast my last bit of paint on the pallete was not even dry yet. I enjoy digital arts when I'm not the one doing it and good for all those illustrator that can make it to the industry. But I'm here first and foremost to keep myself sane.

I'm okay now. Fabulous. Fewer and fewer relapse over the years. By the time I'm fixing all my family financial problem and finally have enough to find a therapist, they said I already handle myself good. I'm carrying thirteen years old me crawling out from that dark pit with sheer spite and luck for finding the perfect outlet to regulate that negative emotion. Giving myself an art therapy without even realise it was one. I can talk freely about that now, maybe I finally find that peace with myself.

So, do you see how long this is? Thats why I take a two minute silence whenever someone ask me why I did not do digital art when I have a potential to make more money with it. How do you even explain this? And I don't think they will care. We Asian do not believe in mental health issue 😂😂 why so weak? So saying I simply doesn't like it looks like the fastest way to give answer and switch topic. Not a lie, but not the truth either.

But my therapist told me to write this out because they think it can help someone out there about the story of art therapy, and here it is. Next time when you are about to ask and pester someone about why they didn't switch into digital art, perhaps do it on a kinder tone. Maybe they have more story behind that, big or small.

If this resonate with you, here, let me give you a hug. You are a survivor and so damn strong, I'm super proud of you!

May the world be kinder to you today, tomorrow, and many years to come.

[anotherfloridaman]

Somewhere, beyond the sea~

Comment if you want more!

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Iruma~ can you be a good boy and clean the bathroom?

Iruma! Do you think you can be a good boy and put away these heavy boxes?

Iruma… we’re really low on money, and the rich people want a bear skin rug, do you think you can be a dear, and fight it for us?

Iruma, we dont have money for bait, can you be a good boy and…

Iruma…

Iruma…

Iruma, you know you need to come back to us, don’t be a bad boy! What happened to you? You were such a good boy, and now your greedy and spoiled! You know he doesnt really care about you. But we do! Thats why we had you do all of this! Come home! Be a good boy and come home!

———————————

Shivering, a cold feeling runs up iruma’s spine, and he opens his eyes ten minutes before his hellraiser clock started screaming at the room. He stares at the blanket around his shoulders and just breathes. Deep breathes. Dee–

SCREEEEEAACH, SCREEEEEEAACH, SCREEE–

“Good morning my dear grandson! How did you sleep? What did you dream about! I hope it made you happy!” The questions rattled off in iruma’s head, words bouncing around in his skull until they break into each letter, sporadically slamming into his skull until they realised they needed to be understood.

Iruma blinks, then answers “G-good morning grandpa, i slept great! But i think running around in my dreams made me really hungry, i have no idea how that happened.” Iruma scratched the back of his neck, knowing it was obvious he was trying to change the subject .

But still, Sullivan was merciful. “I think its a good thing Opera made more breakfast than usual this morning! But how about we get you dressed first?” Sullivan said the middle part a little louder than nessecary, and now wants to stall time for his cat butler, iruma concludes. Ah, poor Opera.

“Okay grandpa? I havent had help getting dressed before.” The boy is nervous, mostly because he remembers having injuries on his chest and stomach, he doesn’t even know what his back looks like.

His dream rings in his ears again, and before he can actually spiral into the depths of disaster, the egg version of his grand father comes from the abyss and says, “I think this could suit you perfectly today! Will you wear it iruma?” Its a simple t shirt and shorts, but iruma needs to go to school.

A laugh escapes the boy, then the reply “Grandpa, that’s not a uniform, and i need to stay in dress code for school! What would professor Kalego think?”

“Well, i could give you special permission to wear whatever you like! You could even go to school with nothing on!” The disgusted looks of his classmates and teachers flashed through his head as he imagined that senario.

“nothanksgrandpa…” iruma managed to stutter out, he avoided the dream, now he needs to avoid this. “Alright, lets get you into a proper uniform then!” The old egg dashed to the closet, excitedly rummaging through the identical uniforms to find the cutest one.

Iruma sighed, hoping the ‘grand reveal’ would go well. He unbottoned his shirt and pulled it away from his shoulders, waiting for the older demon to turn around.

“OOH! I think this would be LOVELY for your smile!” He spins and glances at iruma’s frame then back to the uniform… then looks at iruma’s chest, the uniform, his chest, and just sets the outfit to the side.

“Iruma, are you in pain?” That catches the boy off guard, he thought at best, Sullivan would cry for him and call him his baby, at worse, Sullivan would be disgusted and throw him to the human world. “Uh, no, not anymore. Most of these happened when i was really young anyway.” Sullivan crooked and eyebrow, “Most? If you feel comfortable, can you tell me about the ones you do remember?”

“Sure, uh…” iruma didnt know where to start, he looked at his arm and saw a pair of jagged marks, “Oh! This is from a wolf fish that was caught in a lobster trap, it had a lot of teeth… and this is when i was running from the mafia, i dont think i was able to take out that bullet…” and so it went. Iruma said where some scars came from, and others, he just said “i cant remember.”

There was one scar in particular, that looked recent, but mostly healed over. It was one, long, slightly tilted scar over Iruma’s spine, it covered over older, smaller scars and started from the base of his neck to mid-back. “And do you know where this one came from?” Sullivan inqurires to the boy, fearing someone was responsible.

Iruma reached around himself, and Sullivan saw two things…

One, he saw teethmarks on the boy’s waist, too dull to be demon, so a human bit him?

Two, he’s sure he saw something move inside of the wound. It was an instant, and he was distracted by the tooth marks, which he will be bringing up soon. “Oh yeah, i was taking out trash in a resteraunt, and a can that was open slashed my back. I guess i shouldve checked if any had their lids out.”

Sullivan didn’t know how to respond, so he took his finger and traced the outside of the bite, unintentionally tickeling the child and making him jolt away from the hand, laughing. Until he realised where Sullivan touched.

“Where-“ “i cant remember.” Iruma stared the demon in the eye, with a burning passion Sullivan had only seen in him and when training with Opera. Sullivan let it go -for now- and helped the young human into his uniform.

Opera laid down the last tray and stepped away from the tabe just as the two of them came into the room. A feast fit for three kings sat in front of the boy, steaming, frozen, or even boiled to perfection.

“Good morning Master Iruma, how was your rest?” The cat-like servant was glad they made things that were quick to serve for the extra food.

After Iruma left with Clara and Azz, Sullivan pulled Opera into his side and declaired to the feline, “Iruma needs love, make sure you give him the attention a child needs.”

“Yes Master Sullivan.” Opera was just as confused as when Sullivan brought Iruma home. They love the young master, he eats the food they make, keeps his room clean, is always polite, and never was there a problem with ill words.

“Just be sure to remind him that he’s safe with us.” That raised a flag in Opera’s head, something must’ve happened when Sullivan was alone with the boy.

Whatever it is, they hope Iruma will be well.

[xatsperesso]

I feel like iruma has accidentally called certain teachers/demons mom/dad, like kalego, baal, and both of his friend's mom's

Ok im not sure whether you mean like that's something he'd totally do or that's something that has already canonically happened (which im pretty sure id know of if he canonically called someone mom or dad i would die)

But anyway this is something i can see happen cause iruma is literally collecting patental figures like they're pokemons, and he'd be so fucking flustered and embarrassed he wont be able to look anyone in the eye for a month. But! Who would he call his mom/dad first?

Now listen, im just gonna skim over opera cause they're nonbinary and accidentally slipping would mean to misgender? them and i dont want that. Or maybe opera doesn't care but im not taking any chances, but feel free to tell me any hc you have for our resident cat! Or anyone really i love reading headcanons

So, after recent events, and against every bet the babyl staff may or may not have had, i think he'd first slip up in front of amaryllis, azz's mom. Why? Other than the fact that she would be merciless when teasing him and i enjoy iruma's suffering, just look at what happened in chapter 297 and literally every other interaction between them, giving him advice and dressing him up and being overall affectionate with him like he's her own son. She's every bit the mother his egg donor could never dream of being! And the teasing would be out of this world. No one else will tease him like this queen

Now, the one who's got the most bets placed on (There's no way they dont have a bet on this ok?) Our dear grumpy birb, to the delight of dali and mortification of iruma, kalego! This is very much self explanatory, but what would be his reaction? He'd freeze up because Nope nope nope he's not ready to be a father he's not ready to be IRUMA’S father nopenopenope and then he'd go. Doesn't matter whether it's the middle of the class or he's walking off a cliff he is removing himself from this before opera somehow finds out. He is not going to be a part of this family he is not dealing with this he is Not Blushing fuck of Shichirou! (Everyone somehow finds out and my lord does kalego get teased. Iruma just wants to skip school until he forgets this ever happens (he never will) but his grades aren't that great so he can't TvT)

I want him to call balam dad. No, i want the whole class to call balam dad. The guy needs to be loved. He deserves all the happiness in the world. And yes, it'd be kinda embarrassing, but! The kids are teasing him! This means that they're comfortable around him!! Seriously i love balam so much he very much does not deserve being feared as much as he is

Now, for the ultimate embarrassment, the one who'll laugh their ass off and will not hold back in teasing the poor boy, the one who iruma cant hide from, Arikled. Ali-san is total dad energy, no one can convince me otherwise. And iruma will literally want to die cause he's Arikled. Why did he have to call Arikled out of literally everybody else dad

[krimsonkatt]

Flon. Finally, Flon. Man, this one's a doozy. Firstly, she's a boss that is going to be in Chaos;Domain. But also she has a VERY complex and detailed backstory on why and how I created her that ties into religion, childhood trauma, and... Disney?

Remember the movie Pinocchio? You know, the 1940 classic? Well, child me had a very... INTERESTING interpretation of that movie's events, one that baffles me to this day. You know the blue fairy? You know, the one that serves as the "big good" of the movie and the one that grants Pinocchio life? Well, child me, having grown up in a strict religious household, (my parents have lightened up over the years, don't worry) I thought the blue fairy WAS AN AGENT OF THE DEVIL. Yes, seriously. I interpreted the events of the movie as poor Gapeddo LITERALLY MAKING A FAUSTIAN DEAL WITH THE DEVIL to bring Pinchochio to life and that Pinocchio was some unholy demonic abomination.

I thought the song "starlight star bright" was Gapeddo PRAYING TO THE DEVIL and that IRL that chant can be used to summon Satan. The song freaked me out to the extent that I had a super vivid nightmare where Tyler, my brother and my bunk bed buddy at the time, sang the song with his wish being to "destroy the world." His specific words in the dream were "Starlight, star bright, I wish upon a star tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, I wish that this world would be destroyed tonight." This caused me to hate my brother and believe him to be the antichrist for years, all based on freaking Pinocchio. And please, Jagged Edge Productions, the makers of Winnie the Pooh Blood and Honey, if you are reading this DO NOT steal this idea from me for Pinocchio Unstrung without credit and monetary compensation. Thanks.

Anyway, I was traumatized by the movie for completely different reasons than most kids (the pleasure island scene, which the teacher skipped for its depictions of alcohol and smoking) and deemed the blue fairy not only as the secret big bad of the movie, but also an agent of Satan. I called her "Flon" (pronounced full-on like colon) and started a vendetta against all fairies including Tinker Bell, believing them to all be agents of the devil. I remember once incident in first grade where I saw a girl with a tinker bell backpack and cried out pointing at her "EVI! EVI!" which is my word for anything part of "Evil Villains Incorporated" back then, the main villain group of my fictional universe which I confused for reality. All fairies were part of EVI, so I called them EVI. I got in big trouble and got beaten up by the teachers and put in school jail for that.

Ironically years later in my late teens I grew a fascination of fairies years after I ended my silly vendetta and somewhere in my crazy brain I hold the halfhearted belief that I AM a fairy, or at least a changeling. Makes a lot of sense, considering my disabilities, weirdness, and affinity for the strange and unusual. Also, I developed an actual fairy fetish thanks to stupid sexy Tinker Bell, Adelle from Bravely Default II, and Eos from FFXIV during puberty, not to mention fairy transformation NSFW I stumbled across on the internet. I just like how cute, small, and fluttery they are and the pretty leafy/flowery outfits they wear. To temporarily shape-shift into a tiny fairy is a major fantasy of mine, and I do that thing a lot in lucid dreams.

But anyway, I haven't really decided what Flons strategy in battle should be during Chaos;Domain. Maybe an attack that makes you vulnerable to all elements? Weakness Sparkle? IDK. That game's development is a long ways away, so I can think about it then when I make the resprites for most of the bosses.

[sly-fox]

This is honestly going to suck but-

Okay, I don’t see enough people talking about this so- here we are. This will contain spoilers for the analog horror series, Guilty Tears Au of Sanders Sides. If you haven’t seen it or if any of the following triggers you, please skip: (I am listing the triggers from all the episodes just in case you want to watch it as well so some won’t make sense on a tumblr post, but just in case-) Disturbing Imagery, Loud Sounds, Body Horror, Blood, Gore, Death, Violence, Food (more like implied cannibalism, but ok-), Flashing Lights, Spiders, Ladybugs.

Now if any of that bugs you, I would say that this isn’t for you. This is just my personal opinion and analysis on this series! So let’s get started:

Episode 1: Teachers PowerPoint

So, we’re starting off with a very simple format; a PowerPoint presentation called “Dreams, a Manageable Analysis by Logan Sanders”.

Like omg Logan is so cute in this 🥺. He keeps talking about sleep and the benefits and downsides of it. But something is… off about it. The monitor keeps glitching out and skipping parts of the presentation. It skipped over the definition of Non-REM sleep, and it just is a bit strange. Then this happens:

And then it gets closer T-T. I kinda jumped when I saw it ngl- Then he gives us the definition of a nightmare. It kinda was normal at first but then-

Like wth-? This was honestly just weird to me me, cause he looked like a fucking demon- this isn’t even the weirdest part (and therefore not the most interesting).

Now, the first one is obviously a reference to everything going on with the wedding arc and… other things. Missing Important Events? The callback. Loneliness. More so up to interpretation, or is it? I’ll come back to it later. Rejection? Again, back to it later. Confusing Emotions? All that Thomas has been dealing with for a WHILE. Broken promises, WTIT, anyone?

The second photo:

Morse Code Translated (not by me): WHY DON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME? AM I A JOKE TO YOU? I TRY SO HARD TO BE PATIENT AND GIVE  YOU TIME, BUT YOU CHOSE TO MAKE A STUPID PROMISE INSTEAD OF ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING

Wow.. well what I say about this, is that Logan is snapping at Thomas again, cause as we have seen, he tends to distract himself rather than actually solving his problems. Logan is trying to communicate with Thomas again and he. Won’t. Listen.

After that we got a number sequence:

19/20/15/16/9/7/14/15/18/9/14/7/18/5

If you line it up with the letters in the alphabet, you get “Stop Ignoring Re”. I thought I heard it wrong but I didn’t-. So there had to be a reason for it to say “Re” instead of “Me”, right? Right. I’ll be tying it together, I swear. Just bear with me here. I also find it interesting that a YELLOW GLOVED HAND turned off the monitor and put an out of order note on the screen (I mean it was pretty glitchy so I mean-).

(Also there is a sticky note on the bottom left corner that reads “DONT LOOK BEHIND THE CURTAIN” keep that in the back of your mind c:)

Episode 2: Forgotten Fairytale

So it starts with Janus opening a story book titled “The Young Prince”.

This is interesting- I see a little crown charm on the bookmark- Erin focus- okay so the cover already grabbed my attention. At first cause I thought of beauty and the beast and

H O L Y S H I T the parallels. We have a mirror with a green gem on the handle (I don’t think it’s important but I could be mistaken-). In it, a black wilting rose. Black roses itself mean death, while the wilting flower by itself means “Term used to supress desire when it would otherwise be impossible to fornicate.” Roman wanted to go to the callback (and ask out Nico), but it seemed just out of reach, so he ended up with choosing an option that goes against himself (Virgil helped him with Nico but still-).

To the actual story, it talks about how lonely Roman feels (Loneliness huh?) and that he wants to meet his true love. He searches and searches but can’t find them. One night, a witch pays a visit. He says that he wants to make a deal: he will give Roman his “one true love” in exchange for half of his kingdom. Roman didn’t want to risk it, and told him no.. the witch did not like that.

He cursed Roman, and his face had melted off. Overwhelmed by heartbreak, he locked himself in his tower. The people eventually forgot about him and he died alone, holding the wilted black rose..

And then Janus literally closes the book on that tale-. So Roman’s I feel is more metaphorical, he feels like his world is falling apart, trying to use love to distract him from the pain of his decision to go to the wedding, and the moment he was attacked, no one helped him.. (Janus I love you but you’re a bitch-)

Episode 3: Cookie Mistake

(Yes I’m sure it’s a pun off of Rookie Mistake, it’s Patton what did you expect?)

So this an actual person acting out Patton this time.

The puns 😭. But yeah, it’s a simple baking tutorial! And it’s a mime kinda thing, so we have dialogue on the screen. It seemed normal, but this is Guilty Tears.

He dumped the flour into the bowl and made a little bit of a mess- it’s baking what are you going to do about it? But Patton started shaking slightly saying “That wasn’t supposed to happen…” It’s okay I know you said you were feeling “crumby” but damn- it’s just flour.

Ok then, laying it on thick. So Patton is freaking out over the little things and these little messages pop up. “Do you feel guilt consuming your every thought?” No I don’t think so- but this is maybe reference to POF, where he caused Thomas pain without realizing. The “Nobody is free of sin” seems like a twisted version of their new concept, “Not everything is black and white.” Patton is trying to distract himself from what happened and is only stressing himself out more.

HOLY FUCK, PATTON- Okay. So there’s obviously SOMETHING going on. Why did he have blood in the first place? Why’d he think it was a good idea? Patton are you a cannibal now-?

This gave me an idea.. this could be both figurative or literal but, the blood is on his hands.. Let’s take a look at Virgil’s episode.

Episode 4: Wake Up Call

According to (assumedly) Thomas’ phone, it is 3:23 pm. April 23rd. Almost his birthday, hmm.

Holy shit- no✨ Dolls are creepy enough-. Anyway, it’s starts off by (I assume) Virgil asking Thomas:

So one answer is normal, one is more normal for Thomas and the other sounds more Anxiety related. He chooses to brush his teeth, but they fall out. In dreams, teeth falling out are associated with loss and important life changes. Thomas has been struggling to coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a complete pure good, and his life has changed drastically. This series started from a silly blog and now it’s a series dealing with complex and controversial issues, while he’s struggling to show the world who he is.

With the answers, they’re the same type. He chooses to make breakfast, but in the fridge with Virgil Doll, is a fucking skeleton/corpse and the fridge is all bloody. The “blood on his hands” thing might be more literal than we MAY have thought. Did Thomas kill someone? If so, who did he kill? I’ll get us there (hopefully-).

Okay- Hi Virgil- so, here I want to point out c. “I promise tomorrow I will change I will be a good person I will clean”. As soon as it had showed up on the screen, Virgil appeared. Thomas is making promises he can’t keep.

(“WHY DON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME? AM I A JOKE TO YOU? I TRY SO HARD TO BE PATIENT AND GIVE  YOU TIME, BUT YOU CHOSE TO MAKE A STUPID PROMISE INSTEAD OF ACTUALLY DOING SOMETHING”)

Seems like Logan had another good point- Thomas keeps trying to say tomorrow this and tomorrow that, but Virgil knows. He wants Thomas to get up and be productive, but with Logan “out of service” you have anxiety based motivation. Virgil, being his anxiety, is also reminding him what he did.

At the end, Virgil doll is hanging by a thread (literally) and we see a gloved hand cut the thread. Setting Virgil free for now..

Episode 5: Important Reminder

Thomas is upstairs, and is going down to his living room to answer a knock at his door, and it is a WRECK. But worse than before. There’s blood on the walls and all that. He picks up “The Young Prince” something he apparently used to like during childhood, and finds this drawing between the pages:

“Have you ever imagined killing your brother?” “This is me electrifying my brother!”

Could this imply that Remus was actually the supposed witch? It was (possibly) the drawing mentioned in the Moving On episodes within the pages of a book where Princey died. This could be implying that ever since Remus appeared, Roman has been hurting. Maybe because he blames his dear twin for the murder?

…

THIS IS WHY WE SAID DONT LOOK BEHIND THE CURTAIN-!?

Okay- I’m okay. If you can’t tell, the word “unhelpful” was written in blood, and there is some behind the curtain. I can’t tell who it is tho- Patton? Nightmare Nico?

Speaking of Nico, ✨R E J E C T I O N✨

But really, Thomas is obviously having issues. He tried to get out the house, but Nico was busy that whole week. (Including his birthday 😢)

When he finally answered the door..:

As we’ve seen in WTIT, Thomas is scared of getting older, so I think it’s interesting that Remus called him that. “I can show you how bad things can truly get” I think this is his twisted way of saying “Get over it, you didn’t do as much harm think you did.”

(“Stop Ignoring Re”)

But of course, Janus closes the door on him, shutting him away from Thomas.

Episode 6: Blinding Denial

>No no no.

>I’m fine, I’m alright.

>I’m just…

>I’m just tired.

>I’ll fix it tomorrow, okay?

>I promise.

Thomas have still not learned? 🤨

I feel when Janus leaves the baby crying, he’s not talking about a literal baby, but Thomas. Janus has been sheltering him from the sides trying to confront him (Turning off the PC, Closing the Book, Editing the Video + cleaning the blood, etc.) but has had enough of Thomas prolonging the inevitable.

“You’ve been walking in circles”

“You’re running away from yourself”

He squished the Ladybug. Whilst crushing the hope that good luck will suddenly make things better.

“It’s time to move on and forgive yourself”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Holy crap I did it. Well hopefully you enjoyed! See you later!

[raesnovelsblog]

Synopsis from IMDB:

Two years after Cole survived a satanic blood cult, he's living another nightmare: high school. And the demons from his past? Still making his life hell.

My synopsis: 

Everything and everyone conspires against Cole and the new girl to kill them before dawn to get what they want.

My review

I truly enjoyed that movie. I don’t like it as much as the first one, but it’s still pretty great. The gore and comedy are over the top and I am here for it. The entire film is like a fever dream in the best way possible.

Rating : 8/10

Spoilery thoughts below I had while watching. You have been warned.

The movie is supposed to be 2 years in the future, but Cole looks 4 years older.

No one believing Cole’s story tracks with Cole’s life. 

He’s still hung up on Max being shirtless.

Still doesn’t like shots. That’s not a thing you get over just because you murdered 5 people.

I love Jenna Ortega.

I would be mortified if a teacher/principal ever did that too me.

So if the parents don’t believe him, what do they think happened to all the dead people? Do they think he did or didn’t kill them?

I would freak out if my childhood stuffed animal randomly showed up in my locker.

Cole isn’t doing himself any favors with the clothes he wears. 

The neighbor’s dad is such a tool. Again, how does he have so much custody?

She arrives via trucker?

She was making out with him. Cole should have known something was up.

But he did pick up on her calling it the devil’s book. Go Cole.

“What the fuck…again!” Ha.

And shirtless Max is back.

“The devil gives good head.” Ha.

I love Max’s character. He’s so supportive of Cole, yet actively trying to kill him. Layers.

I appreciate that she just, believes him. She saw the dead body and that’s all it took.

The Deliverance theme. 

Of course that guy was going to be a jerk.

Cole used the shoelaces trick on him. Perfect.

I’m not a huge fan of Bella Thorn, but I adore her in these movies.

She shot herself in the boob, again!

Cole hit him with the leg. 

“You finally found my dick Cole.” HA.

A hair net but no shirt. So on brand for Max.

You don’t scare someone mid stream. That’s what you get.

The dance/sex montage is unhinged in the best way possible.

Bear McCreary! I love his stuff. 

“I’m taking your IUD.” What?

If your fight scene is going to be cartoonish, why not lean into it.

I like that B was Phoebe's babysitter too.

“You’re not so innocent anymore.”

And Max is proud.

The dad saw. Finally.

[what-if-nct]

heyyyy!!!!!!!! are you feeling good? i hope you're doing better now!! like, the best. I hope you feel the best.

today, i skipped school first time in my life. i had two panic attacks in a span of like half an hour, and my sister comforted me over the phone. then i walked out of school and took the train home. for some reason, a teacher put me as sick in the system, so that i wouldnt get in trouble. the rule is, every hour skipped, you have to come back double. but i am never going back to that hell ever again so after the therapy trial at my other school ends, i am officially moving schools. the plan was, i'd go to a therapy school for fourteen weeks, and then back to this school but now, i'm not going to do that.

my ex (who's still my friend, she's the nicest person in the world. she is not like other girls but actually. she literally isnt like any other human. super supportive and accepting, and really weird. i love her very platonically now) actually went to that school wearing a rainbow jeans because this school is known in the public as homophobic. someone there said to a gay 'god is disgusted by you, i'm praying for you' and they forced multiple students out of the closet. a teacher called lgbt demonic cultivation. someone said 'hi [name]' to her and she was like 'and who the fuck are you?' it was very funny tbh. that girl was reformed christian asf. okay i have no idea why i am pouring my thoughts here again. sorry

i ate the most delicious crossaint ever today. very delicious.

i also tried playing a song on my flute, only to discover that 1) i cant play the flute 2) that song is both too high and too low. it's really pretty, tho!! unless i play it. i kinda ruined the song for myself now.

to the someone that said i'm, along with Naked Onew Dream anon, their fav anon- brooo i love you so much <33333

-sneeze

(i'm gonna keep using anon mode bc else i'm not an anon anymore- just for the vibe-)

Hey, I'm feeling a lot better I think I figured out what was wrong and I'm doing a lot better. I wasn't eating enough I know this but I keep forgetting that it ends up making me feel dizzy. A gas station pretzel and mozzarella stick isn't a meal but easy. But I try to eat more.

Yeah, I think skipping school was the best call since you were having back to back panic attacks. I completely support skipping when it comes to your mental wellbeing. Or you just don't wanna be there. I used to skip school all the time and the people at school sucked. Beauty school is a vibe though. And your ex\still friend sounds absolutely incredible and good for her for not really caring and doing as she pleases. That mindset is such a horrible one to have like we're well into the 21st century get with the program. Yay yummy croissant, croissants are the best. I think it's cool you were even able to play a piece of music on the flute, I was unable to read music when I played the violin in elementary so I respect that so much maybe you just gotta practice and you'll be able to play it beautifully.

[jazzy---j]

Daughter of Poseidon: The Lightning Thief

“even the gods have to bow to fate”

Chapter Summary: In the search for answers, Cassie and Percy may find that they have gotten more than they bargained for. And the ride back home only serves to show them that at least one of their fates has been sealed.

Masterlist >>> Read on ao3 (2/23)

Three Old Ladies Knit the Socks of Death

I would love to say that the final few weeks of school just went back to normal. I was used to the occasional weird experience, but usually, they were over quickly. This twenty-four/seven fever dream was way more than I could handle. I did not sign up for this much mind-bending.

For the rest of the school year, the entire campus seemed to be playing some kind of trick on Percy and I. The students acted as if they were completely and totally convinced that Mrs. Kerr- a perky blond woman (whom I swear I’ve never seen in my life until she got on our bus at the end of the field trip, by the way)-had been our pre-algebra teacher since Christmas.

Every so often, we would spring a Mrs. Dodds reference on somebody just to see if we could trip them up, but the usual response would be to stare at me like I was the psycho.

I wasn’t the one who seemed to forget an entire person.

I got so frustrated that I almost gave up and believed them. For the sake of my sanity, I would believe Mrs. Dodds had never existed. Almost.

For one, the bracelet on my wrist made it hard to forget what happened that day. It appeared like a bronze snake coiled around my wrist with a scale design running down the length of it. It was pretty if you're into jewelry like that, but the main problem was that it would not come off. I tried to pull it off and used forks to try and wedge it off. I even tried butter for godsakes, but nothing worked.

If that wasn’t proof enough, Grover was a dead giveaway and wasn’t fooling anybody. When Percy mentioned the name Dodds to him, he would hesitate, then claim she didn't exist. I knew there was something he wasn’t telling us. Plus, he is just a terrible liar.

I begged Percy to let me try to talk to Grover to see if I could trip him up, but he refused. Hey, I got it he didn’t wanna lose his best and only friend by freaking him out with my crackpot theories. So I dropped it. But I’m sure Percy had his own suspicions as well.

I thought about it every day. Something was going on, something had happened at the museum. And I was gonna find out what.

I didn't have much time to think about it during the days, but at night, visions of Mrs. Dodds with talons and red demon eyes would wake me up screaming.

The freak weather continued, which didn't help Percy’s mood. I tried to be there for him, but even I was having trouble keeping it together. One night, a thunderstorm blew out the windows in his dorm room. A few days later, the biggest tornado ever spotted in the Hudson Valley touched down only fifty miles from Yancy Academy. One of the current events we studied in social studies class was the unusual number of small planes that had gone down in sudden squalls in the Atlantic that year.

I started feeling moody and angsty (like a real teen) most of the time. My grades slipped from Cs to Ds. I got into more fights with Nancy Bobofit and her friends. Percy was sent out into the hallway in almost every class.

Finally, when our English teacher, Mr. Nicoll, asked Percy for the millionth time why he was too lazy to study for spelling tests, I sat back and watched the show as my brother snapped.

Percy called him an old sot, an old drunk. I bet my life that he didn’t even know what that meant.

The headmaster sent my mom a letter the following week, making it official: Percy would not be invited back next year to Yancy Academy.

Me, not to be outdone by my older brother, spray-painted a few not-so-nice words on Ms. Kerr’s chalkboard. Sort of payback for making me feel like a complete and utter psycho in the final semester. The headmaster sent the letter the same day.

Fine, I told myself. Just fine. I was homesick. I hated this school.

I wanted to be with my mom and Percy in our little apartment on the Upper East Side. I missed the dance studio on 5th Avenue where I spent so many weekends, even if I had to go to public school and put up with my obnoxious stepfather and his stupid poker parties.

And yet... there were things I'd miss at Yancy. The view of the woods outside my dorm window, the Hudson River in the distance, and the smell of pine trees. I'd miss Mr. Brunner and his ideas that me and Percy could do better in class than everyone else and his expectation that we would be better. I would especially miss tournament days in his class.

As exam week got closer, Latin was the only test Percy I even tried to study for. I hadn't forgotten what Mr. Brunner had told us about this subject being life and death for us. I wasn't sure why, but I'd believed him.

The evening before our final, I went to Percy’s dorm to study. Percy got so frustrated he threw the Cambridge Guide to Greek Mythology across my dorm room. I opted for the more common sense choice of throwing it in the bathtub full of water.

Percy paced the room, which was starting to annoy me, as I lay on his bed staring at the ceiling with tears of frustration running down my face.

I remembered Mr. Brunner's serious expression, his thousand-year-old eyes. I will accept only the best from you, Percy, and Cassie Jackson.

”Dude, can you please stop pacing your gonna run a hole in the carpet,” I muttered as I pulled my head up to look at him.

“Plus, it is getting on my nerves.”

Percy stopped his pacing, “Sorry.”

He took a deep breath. He went to the bathroom, and when he came out, he had my textbook in his hand. He set it out on the windowsill to dry and picked up his mythology book.

“Come on,” he said and started for the door.

”Where are we going?” I asked as I scrambled to put on my shoes.

Percy paused with his hand on the doorknob and sighed, "I was thinking that maybe if we talked to Mr. Brunner, he could give us some pointers.”

He turned to me as he opened the door,” I-I don’t want to leave Yancy Academy with him thinking we hadn't tried.”

My lips turned up into a smile. Despite everything said about my brother, he was really a good kid, just trying to do the best that he could.

”Well then,” I said, walking out the door, “let’s make sure he doesn’t.”

We walked downstairs to the faculty offices. Most of them were dark and empty, but Mr. Brunner's door was ajar, light from his window stretching across the hallway floor.

We were three steps from the door handle when I heard voices inside the office. Mr. Brunner asked a question. A voice that was definitely Grover's said, "... worried about Percy and Cassie, sir."

Percy froze. I bumped into his back.

He inched closer.

“Percy, what are you doing?” I whisper-yelled while tugging on his shirt. He simply shrugged me off and put a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

Something else about myself... I don’t like to be shushed!

"Did you just shush me?!" I continued. He ignored me.

"... alone this summer," Grover was saying. "I mean, a Kindly One in the school! Now that we know for sure, and they know too-"

"We would only make matters worse by rushing them," Mr. Brunner said. "We need them both to mature more."

"But them may not have time. The summer solstice deadline- "

"Will have to be resolved without them, Grover. Let them enjoy their ignorance while they still can."

"Sir, they both saw her... ."

"Their imagination," Mr. Brunner insisted. "The Mist over the students and staff will be enough to convince them of that."

So it was real? We weren’t crazy?

I should have felt relieved, but only dread settled into me.

We weren’t crazy...

"Sir, I... I can't fail in my duties again." Grover's voice was choked with emotion. "You know what that would mean."

"You haven't failed, Grover," Mr. Brunner said kindly. "I should have seen her for what she was. Now let's just worry about keeping Percy and Cassie alive until next fall-"

The mythology book dropped out of my brother’s hand and hit the floor with a thud.

Oh. My. God.

I facepalmed.

HE DROPPED THE GODDAMN BOOK!

I couldn’t believe it.

Mr. Brunner went silent.

My heart hammering, I picked up the book, grabbed Percy’s shirt, and we both began to back down the hall.

A shadow slid across the lighted glass of Brunner's office door, the shadow of something much taller than my wheelchair-bound teacher, holding something that looked suspiciously like an archer's bow.

Percy opened the nearest door, grabbed me, and slipped us inside.

A few seconds later, I heard a slow clop-clop-clop, like muffled woodblocks, then a sound like an animal snuffling right outside the door. A large, dark shape paused right in front of the glass, then moved on.

My heart pounded so loud I was afraid everyone could hear it. I looked at Percy, and he was as still as a statue. A look of panic plastered across his face.

Somewhere in the hallway, Mr. Brunner spoke. "Nothing," he murmured. "My nerves haven't been right since the winter solstice."

"Mine neither," Grover said. "But I could have sworn..."

“Go back to the dorm," Mr. Brunner told him. "You've got a long day of exams tomorrow."

"Don't remind me,” Grover groaned.

The lights went out in Mr. Brunner's office.

We waited in the dark for what seemed like forever.

Finally, we slipped out into the hallway and made our way back up to the dorms.

Overwhelmed with the fact what happened at the museum was real and both Grover and Mr. Brunner knew something about it, I told Percy goodnight and trudged up to my dorm, praying that whatever was going on, Percy and I would find a way out of it.

The next afternoon, as Percy and I were leaving the three-hour Latin exam, my eyes swimming with all the Greek and Roman names I'd misspelled, Mr. Brunner called us back inside.

For a moment, I was worried he'd found out about our impromptu eavesdropping the night before, but that didn't seem to be the problem.

"Percy, Cassie,” he said. "Don't be discouraged about leaving Yancy. It's... it's for the best."

His tone was kind, but the words were still embarrassing. Even though he was speaking quietly, the other kids finishing the test could hear. Nancy Bobofit smirked at me and made sarcastic little kissing motions with her lips. I glared hard enough at her that she promptly went back to looking at her test.

Percy mumbled, "Okay, sir,” as he gripped my hand tightly.

"I mean..." Mr. Brunner wheeled his chair back and forth like he wasn't sure what to say. "This isn't the right place for you. It was only a matter of time."

My head was down, and a curtain of hair covered my face as my eyes stung from trying to hold back tears. I wanted to say something, but there was a lump in my throat. Percy just stared Brunner in the eyes.

Here was my favorite teacher, in front of the class, telling me I couldn't handle it. That my brother couldn’t handle it. After saying he believed in us all year, he was now telling us we were destined to get kicked out.

"Right," Percy said, voice trembling.

"No, no," Mr. Brunner said. "Oh, confound it all. What I'm trying to say... you're not normal, you two. That's nothing to be"

"Thanks," I blurted. "Thanks a lot, sir, for reminding us.

"Percy, Cassie-"

But we were already gone.

On the last day of the term, I shoved my clothes into my suitcase.

The other girls were joking around, talking about their vacation plans. One of them was going on a hiking trip to Switzerland. Another was cruising the Caribbean for a month. They were juvenile delinquents, like me, but they were pretty and rich juvenile delinquents. Their daddies were executives, ambassadors, or celebrities. I was a nobody from a family of nobodies.

They asked me what I'd be doing this summer, and I told them I was going back to the city.

What I didn't tell them was that I'd have to get a summer job babysitting, trying to catch up on all the dance skills I missed and lost over the semester, and spend my free time worrying about where Percy and I’d go to school in the fall.

"Oh," one of the girls said. "That's cool."

They went back to their conversation as if I'd never existed.

Grover booked a ticket to Manhattan on the same Greyhound that Percy and I had, so there we were, together for one last time, heading into the city.

During the whole bus ride, Grover kept glancing nervously down the aisle, watching the other passengers. It occurred to me that he'd always acted nervous and fidgety when we left Yancy, as if he expected something bad to happen. Before, I'd always assumed he was worried about getting teased. But there was nobody to tease him on the Greyhound.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, but Percy beat me to it.

He said, "Looking for Kindly Ones?"

Grover nearly jumped out of his seat. "Wha-what do you mean?"

Percy confessed about us eavesdropping on him and Mr. Brunner the night before the exam.

Grover's eye twitched. "How much did you hear?"

"Oh... not much,” I said as I fiddled with the strings on my hoodie, trying to play it cool.

“What's the summer solstice deadline?" I blurted, looking Grover dead in the eye.

He winced. "Look, guys... I was just worried for you, see? I mean, hallucinating about demon math teachers..."

"Grover-"

"And I was telling Mr. Brunner that maybe you were overstressed or something because there was no such person as Mrs. Dodds, and..."

"Grover, you’re a really, really bad liar,” I deadpanned.

His ears turned pink.

From his shirt pocket, he fished out a grubby business card. "Just take this, okay? In case you need me this summer.

I looked over Percy’s shoulder at the card. It was in fancy script, which was murder for my dyslexia, but I finally made out something like:

Grover Underwood Keeper

Half-Blood Hill

Long Island, New York (800) 009-0009

"What's Half-"

"Don't say it aloud!" he yelped. "That's my, um... summer address."

"Okay," Percy said glumly. "So, like, if we want to come to visit your mansion."

Grover nodded. "Or... or if you need me."

"Why would we need you?"

I glared at him with a look that said, “Dude, come on.” My big brother, ever so articulate.

Grover blushed right down to his Adam's apple. "Look, guys, the truth is, I-I kind of have to protect you."

I stared at him. Now that was hard to believe. Between demon math teachers and everyone thinking I was crazy, Grover protecting us was throwing me for a loop.

All year long, Percy’d gotten in fights, keeping bullies away from him. I'd even lost a little sleep worrying that he'd get beaten up next year without us. And here he was, acting like he was the one who defended us.

"Grover," I said, "what exactly are you protecting us from?"

There was a huge grinding noise under our feet. Black smoke poured from the dashboard, and the whole bus filled with the smell of rotten eggs. The driver cursed and limped the Greyhound over to the side of the highway.

After a few minutes of clanking around in the engine compartment, the driver announced that we'd all have to get off. Grover, Percy, and I filed outside with everybody else.

We were on a stretch of country road-no place you'd notice if you didn't break down there. On our side of the highway were nothing but maple trees and litter from passing cars. On the other side, across four lanes of asphalt shimmering with the afternoon heat, was an old-fashioned fruit stand.

The stuff on sale looked really good: heaping boxes of blood-red cherries and apples, walnuts and apricots, jugs of cider in a claw-foot tub full of ice. There were no customers, just three old ladies sitting in rocking chairs in the shade of a maple tree, knitting the biggest pair of socks I'd ever seen.

I mean, these socks were the size of sweaters, but they were clearly socks. The lady on the right knitted one of them. The lady on the left knitted the other. The lady in the middle held an enormous basket of electric-blue yarn.

All three women looked ancient, with pale faces wrinkled like fruit leather, silver hair tied back in white bandannas, and bony arms sticking out of bleached cotton dresses.

The weirdest thing was, they seemed to be looking right at Percy. Not at me, not at Grover, only at Percy. Percy started back.

I looked over at Grover to comment on their intense gaze and saw that the blood had drained from his face. His nose was twitching.

"Grover?" I said. "Hey, dude-"

"Tell me they're not looking at Percy. They are, aren't they?"

"Yeah. Weird, huh? You think those socks would fit me?" Percy said.

I laughed nervously. I was starting to get a weird feeling, my body only telling me one thing “leave.”

"Not funny, Percy. Not funny at all."

The old lady in the middle took out a huge pair of scissors-gold and silver, long-bladed, like shears. I heard Grover catch his breath.

"We're getting on the bus," he told me. "Come on."

"What?" Percy said. "It's a thousand degrees in there."

"Come on!'" He pried open the door and climbed inside. I grabbed Percy’s arm because I was really starting to freak out. Everything about this felt wrong, dangerous.

”Percy, we should get on the bus with Grover, “ I said, trying to gently tug him along. But Percy stayed put.

Across the road, the old ladies were still watching us. The middle one cut the yarn, and I swear I could hear that snip across four lanes of traffic. Her two friends began to ball up the electric-blue socks.

At the rear of the bus, the driver wrenched a big chunk of smoking metal out of the engine compartment. The bus shuddered, and the engine roared back to life.

The passengers cheered.

"Darn right!" yelled the driver. He slapped the bus with his hat. "Everybody back on board!" Once we got going, I started to feel a strange sort of guilt, as if something just happened that I should have stopped.

Grover didn't look much better. He was shivering, and his teeth were chattering.

"Grover?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you not telling us?" Percy said.

He dabbed his forehead with his shirt sleeve. "Percy, what did you see back at the fruit stand?"

"You mean the old ladies? What is it about them, man? They're not like... Mrs. Dodds, are they?"

His expression was hard to read, but I got the feeling that the fruit-stand ladies were something much, much worse than Mrs. Dodds. He pushed, "Just tell me what you saw."

"The middle one took out her scissors, and she cut the yarn,” I said.

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with his fingers that might've been crossing himself, but it wasn't. It was something else, something almost older.

He said, "You saw her snip the cord."

"Yeah. So?" But even as nonchalant as Percy said it, I knew it was a big deal.

"This is not happening," Grover mumbled. He started chewing at his thumb. "I don't want this to be like the last time."

"What last time?"

"Always sixth grade. They never get past sixth."

"Grover," Percy said, gripping my hand because he knew Grover was freaking me out, and I was starting to get scared. "What are you talking about?"

"Let me walk you home from the bus station. Percy, promise me."

This seemed like a strange request to me, but Percy promised he could.

"Is this like a superstition or something?" I asked.

No answer.

"Grover-that snipping of the yarn. Does that mean somebody is going to die?"

He looked at me mournfully, and the guilt only grew.

chapter 3 >>>

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

3.3.24 Sunday

9:55 am

I still have windblow and I feel like I'm floating or a budol or a spell on me... I feel that my head is spinning... I feel like I'm having tipsy or hang-over? Weird... Am I feeling someone's soul or they put a spell on me???

I'm worrying so much... I need a career growth, I'm having self-pity....

Well, I just sent my application on Eperformax in Manila and Amazon thru on-line just yesterday... I will wait for it while me hoping I can get my momentum back to exercise or stretch again or start my diet....It is my dream to flatten my tummy.

I have so many frustrations...I wanted to leave Cavite why I can't grow....Where is Mitch? Is someone guilty for having that double platinum award or reaching the goldenish huge trophy in the world??? What are their plans??? Did they give me a "simple battery"???

10:14 am

If Mitch is somewhere, I have to meet her again... Just make her alive no matter what... If she earning an award off the screen... Just let her do it and make her live....I need to see her again in time like now... I wanna ask why? What's up? I just wanna see Mitch in whole piece again and ask her why and what's up???

10:21 am

For the plastics INC or Church of Christ, oh! Please have a heart.... I do believe I still have good friends in them as well as in Born Again but I'm really a Roman Catholic now not for anyone but my choice!!!

For my insensitive family members, they are almost all stupid, I just don't want to hang on with them here without helping me at all...

I still hate George's family, linking with Betsilog'z gang...

10:35 am

This song are for my true FRIENDS, ohkay???

Whereever you are.... Did you give me a "simple battery"? What's up??? Or Was there a "game plan"? Is it for Us or for something??? What's up? What's up? On every tunnel, I need to understand, why?

What's up???

10:52 am

For the fucking tunnel who got Mitch and changed her, if I find you, I will kill you all....There is a demonic young girl who lead that tunnel,they got Mitch... Where is Mitch???

I will kill you all! Fuck you whatever that fucking tunnel!!!

12:08 noon

Get out of my hair 20 those are plastics on me... Group of 20 as if they will protect but they just fuck each other for their own group!

But be responsible,still...

3:23 pm

I feel light-headed it is weird since yesterday afternoon around 5:30 in the afternoon.

Aside from I'm worrying on money and I need a job angels... Just reviewing basics about computer...

Where is Mitch? I have windblow... Did she give me a "simple battery"???

Or Miss Ignaco's group my X-teacher during high-school in my computer class.. What was the program, I think it was Pascal???

Angels,switch my soul.....I feel light-headed and I took my iron already...I need to buy iron and eat rice for awhile...

8:10 pm

I still have windblow... I feel fat and ugly ... I feel so ugly...

11:18 pm

I still have windblow.....I feel fat and super ugly, my deep inside... Argh!

I need to get my momentum back to do my exercise routine... I'm single and becoming fat and bitterish...I don't wanna be called ugly and short, angels...

One of the reasons, I wanna get a black bf but a foreigner aside from Borgy but Borgy's moment was over... I don't wanna be interfered by their follower that is so unreal....Like those red or 20's are commenting negatively on me these day like last Friday, a red suddenly bumped me while walking on the vicinity of Eperformax.

I feel so ugly... I don't wanna adjust coz I was so fucking nice... My younger days was over and my pretty young soul was being stolen for nothing. The wicked witches wanted me to feel insecure and it reached that point these days, that my stretch face was just a history and now all they can see is my sagging skin...

[stfu-im-thinking-abt-blorbo]

Dream journal time again!!

For once this isn't over Kaneda, he was nowhere to be seen last night. Instead it was Happy Chaos :)))

So it was another one of those school dreams I think I've mentioned before. But this time I actually knew what classes I had and where to find them. Didn't know who my teachers were, but I was excited for one class in particular even though didn't know why. And I was my adult self despite being in what I think was meant to be a high school? (Granted I don't look very different from when I was in high school, so idk.)

I had some weird classes. There was the usual Math, English, and so and so classes, the weird ones were named after countries, even though they didn't have anything to do with the countries. The particular one I wish excited over was called Scots class, and we even had a specific uniform. Both versions had the skirt / kilt thing, but I refused to wear either version since it was also partially a gym class. Boys went to go practice sports while girls stayed behind and were supposed to do ice skating, but did arts and crafts instead. Mainly clay sculpting, which I was unrealistically good at, even though I'm allergic to the clay usually used in schools.

I was openly trans in my dream, so I was supposed to go with the guys for sports. Though, since I also had some nasty health concerns that the boys' teacher didn't want anything to do with, I ultimately ended up with the girls. I remember a few of their faces from back in high school, and I think they might have been considered the "popular" girls, though I remember them being really polite to me despite most people finding me annoying or a pain in the ass. So in my dream they were all very chill about me being in their class and used the right pronouns for me despite still looking very feminine. A while into the class, some of the boys actually came back inside because they were so bad at the sports they were practicing, they were sent to the girls' class so they wouldn't get a poor grade for the day.

Side tangent aside, this is where Happy Chaos comes in. Since the class was divided into two, there were two teachers. I don't remember the boys' teacher, but the girls' teacher was "Mr." Happy Chaos. Blue demon look and all. He had his regular pants on minus the gun holsters, didnt bother to check for shoes but I don't think we wore any, and he wore a white button up that was slightly undone at the collar with his sleeves rolled up. Nobody questioned his appearance, most people barely registered he was there. Seeing him made realize he was why I was excited for that class and had a moment of clarity that I was in a dream, but instantly got sucked back into the dream after the boys' teacher introduced him.

He recognized me and I'm pretty sure he could tell we were in a dream of mine. He didn't necessarily cling to me, he had whatever responsibilities a teacher had at thst weird school, but he did constantly check on me and the classmates nearby me. Since I wasn't intially assigned to the girls class, I didn't get any kind of reference for the thing we ended up sculpting, yet I was also the only artistic person at the table who had tried to learn clay sculpting before (5 guesses on how I figured out I was allergic to clay lol). It ended up being a hand with two other hands fused into it. One full size hand melted on top of it but slightly arched, and a small baby-like hand in between those sticking out on the right when palm up. I remember someone calling it "Abe Lincoln's Mutant Baby Hands." Mine ended up being the closest to the reference even though I had to go by what others were making. Dream logic I guess?

And idk where else to put this, but it's a relatively minor detail, though it feels huge to me. Everyone referred to me with the right pronouns, but also my dead name. Even when I told my teachers I prefer to be called Jay, they would always still call me my dead name. I simply rolled with it. Everything felt off, so I didn't question it. Happy Chaos on the other hand, was the only person to refer to me as Jay and refused to call me by my dead name. (Happy Chaos, the only real trans ally lmao.)

At the end up the class, I was getting my bag back together as the others were filing out of the room, and as I made to leave, Chaos was standing by the door watching the others go. He looked back inside and saw me fumbling for a piece of paper with my schedule on it, occasionally looking up so I didn't trip or bump into anyone. I heard him call my name, but by the time I had looked up and blinked, I was back in my room with my morning alarm going off.

No idea where the dream was intending to go, but I have a feeling Chaos was trying to snap me out of the dream. Not wake me up, but try and get me lucid or something. It sucks, I wanna spend time with him, even if it is only a dream >:(

[imadumdumjewel]

Coming to terms

wow why am i posting my own personal opinions in my reblog blog

but straight to the point is i am still learning to accpet myself for being different when it comes to the owl house.

YES.

IM SORRY TO SAY I STILL DONT LIKE IT.

YES IM NEURODIVERGENT

YES IM SOCIALLY AWKWARD

YES I FEEL LIKE I HAVE TO MEET EXPECTATIONS OF MY SOCIETY EVEN AFTER HAVING LEFT WHERE I WAS BORN

YES KING IS CUTE AND EDALYN IS FUNNY

YES BELOS/PHILLIP IS SO WELL-WRITTEN THAT I LIKE EVERYONE ELSE WANT TO PUNCH HIM AND WISH HIM DEAD

YES HUNTER WILLOW GUS ARE GOOD

YES DANA TERRACE IS TALENTED

but sadly i just cant connect or resonate with luz or amity. nor the species. palisman? well, maybe flapjack since he is cute and im sad that he died. and yes it sucks that disney has canned it as disney is stupid.

but i just cant.

maybe its because of lumity. maybe its because of the mention of the term demons. maybe its because it gets dark and traumatic quite quickly.

maybe its because dana terrace insulted people who disagreed with her agenda of using this series for lgbt ppl.

its never wrong for lgbt ppl n nonbinaries of wanting to find a conduit/outlet to express themselves. i acknowledge their presence, they're ppl after all. sadly i do have my concerns of children and teen kids finding their sexualities THIS prematurely. its better for them to find their hobbies and friends and goals and dreams first before coining their own sexualities due to media influences. and tbh i grow up in Hong Kong which is actually conservatitive as an entire capsule. my teachers and church taught me to avoid this at all cost. and i perhaps am on the spectrum of being more conservatitive.

yet whenever i voice out my concerns and reasons, ppl bash me. because they think im dissing a fabulous show and they also claim that im homophobic. not helped that the fanbase is mainly from USA and UK and Euorpean and America.

And I’ve realized that I and many can’t watch things that not only fail to match preferences, but also when a fanbase is this unacceptable to people who have a different viewpoint.

i never said that homo people and non-binary are crap. i just dont feel that way or agree with their ideas. and most of the time i just let them live. you can call me indifferent but i really dont want to care.

yet they dont care. all they think is "you dont support theowl house means you are homo and a disney apologist"

i was young, so i was taught to be afraid.

yes i acknowledge my child self was being linear. yet simultaneously i have been feeling painful for not feeling the same support as anyone else. because back when the owl house was announced, i was interested actually! after all im interested into the magic genre to an extent!

its just that after details about it was released and that enchanting grom fright came out, i no longer have the resonance. which was sad as i did glimpse that amity was showing her true colors in a positive manner.

its ok if all of you still want to fight for lgbt nonbinary trans rights. its your choice. i cant and wont object too much if you dont feel like changing your choices. live your own lives.

but pls, dont accuse me just because i think differently and is straight. and i have the right to appreciate the show despite not liking it.

Feel free for all of you to watch the owl house because you like it for your own reasons.

signing off.

[virtualfindingsdocumented]

The Woman and Mr. Feint and the solidarity of “my baby was taken by VFD with the support of my ex-lover and was raised by people I hate and I will eventually face him in a battle of life and death because he was taught beliefs that are completely against mine also he will one day propose to Beatrice.”

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Being Rescued By Dante And Crew

Dante X FemReader

Rating: T+ 

Warnings: Blood, gore, horror, and mentions of death

Word Count: 1,720

As Requested by the lovely: @sarahslolitaportfolio​

(A/N:) Thank you for this request! I love writing for Dante and he’s my favorite video game character ever! So I always enjoy meeting fellow DMC fans and ones that appreciate Dante like I do! Especially when I get requests to write about said Dante! Hehe! So I really hope I was able to fulfill your request and that it was everything you hoped it would be! Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity and until next time happy reading! ~Countess

There had been moments in your life where you couldn’t understand certain things. Like how you had a certain ability that had suddenly manifested when you were younger, or how everyone came to believe you were some kind of freak when a dead bird suddenly revived and flew away when you touched it. So after that you hid yourself and your ability. Barely socializing with others you kept to yourself, not even your co-workers truly knew who you were. You were called a freak so that’s the way you stayed. But now you decided that maybe you weren’t really the freak that there was other things way more terrifying than the ability that had cursed you. 

Strapped down onto a stone table you felt blood pouring from your wrists after trying to free yourself from such tight bonds. Creatures that you could only explain as being some kind of nightmare born from a mixture of the Exorcist, Amityville Horror, and The Conjuring combined had your head spinning in fear. One in particular creature seemed more curious over you, especially watching your blood trickling to the floor. When you were taken by these horrific creatures you didn’t even have time to scream before you were taken to this dark place. Now that you were here the fear kept you from talking until this one just kept staring and it started to get on your nerves.

“What are you looking at? You’ve been keeping me here for so long just staring at me bleeding out so why don’t you just get it over with?!” You snapped causing the large demon to stand and come towards you. He didn’t need a knife to cut your skin open, his claws did the job just perfectly fine. Dragging said claw smoothly down your cheek, blood welling up from the touch.

“Careful little creature,” the evil being chuckled at his work. “You don’t have to be alive for the ritual.”

“What ritual,” you spit a little afraid but still more angry than afraid.

“The revival of the great Mundus,” it purred.

“How great can this Mundus be if he’s dead?”

Screams of rage echoed all around you from the surrounding evil causing your mouth to snap shut. So far you were still alive, so maybe you shouldn’t provoke the creatures that could easily kill you.

  “Why do you need me in particular anyway,” you spoke a little later when everything had settled back down.

“I need your revival magic,” the demon replied. He had his back towards you working on said ritual.

“I think you have the wrong person I don’t have any magic,” you lied. Maybe you could bluff your way out?

“Lying does you no good with me,” he said. “Poor thing, never had a teacher to make you realize your potential. But don’t worry it won’t go to waste. Your blood will make the perfect conduit to bring back our Master.”

Bluffing wasn’t going to work. So now here you lay, surrounded by evil incarnate about to die before really getting to do anything you dreamed of. You looked back at all the years you had wasted staying hidden, afraid of the world. Now you wished you had stood up for yourself. Now as a black twisted shaped knife held above your prone form you sucked in a breath and fought back tears.

Just as the knife plunged down the door leading to your horrific prison slammed open. A man raced through his silver hair brushing his cheeks before ordering the team behind him. Another silver haired boy, a blonde haired woman, and another dark haired woman fought left and right. Slaughtered demons fell to the floor with pained cries. The man raced to your side kicking the demon away from you. The knife that would have taken your life clattered to the floor sliding away. You watched him unsheathe a large sword and take a battle stance.

“Didn’t your momma ever teach you that’s not how you get a woman to like you,” he teased.

“Sparda spawn,” the demon hissed. “Mundus will take care of you.”

“Ughhh again with the Mundus crap?! Seriously that’s all I ever hear anymore. Mundus is great. Sparda is trash,” he rolled his eyes launching himself off the ground towards the raging devil. “Newsflash I killed your boss years ago, get over it!”

“Mundus lives,” the creatures roared in unison.

“Fine stay in denial,” he grumbled. “But therapy is expensive just so you know. I thought I was helping.”

Still tied down all you could do is watch as black blood ran across the floor. Demon corpses littered the area with twitching limbs and sightless eyes. While every person was absolutely amazing and skilled beyond compare you couldn’t take your eyes off the silver haired man that fought like the Devil himself but still had the ability to joke and tease. His prey was enraged but losing quickly. Switching from the large blade he produced two pistols from behind his coat. One an ebony black and the other an ivory silver. Gorgeous weapons of no other make. Gunshots rattled the walls, shells clinking against the grimy stone floor. The guns didn’t quit firing until the creature lay still riddled like cheese and the clips were empty. Now he had his attention on you and what he saw caused him to stumble. The man who had just been flawless and moved like a skilled deadly dancer was tripping over his own feet. You couldn’t understand but Dante knew immediately just looking at you.

Despite your state you were the most beautiful woman he had even seen, Trish would be absolutely jealous if she knew he thought you, this cut up human, prettier than her. Holstering the twin pistols Dante regained his composure before making his way to your side. The three others were still cleaning up the remaining mess, not wanting consequences of sloppy working coming back to bite them in the butt.

“Hey gorgeous lady,” Dante flirted producing a smaller knife to cut your bonds. Your wrists were a bloody mess, it made the silver haired devil hunter angry seeing your state. Though he just met you, his instinct immediately went into protective mode.

“Thank you,” you breathed trying to sit up but too weak from the blood loss and lack of food.

“Just doing my hunter duty for pretty things like yourself,” Dante preened.

You looked at him weirdly but gratefully, especially when he helped you sit up and held you upright. “Got a name?”

“Sure do,” Dante chuckled. “The name’s Dante and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Dante huh?” You hummed rolling the name over and over. “I like it. I’m (Y/N).”

“Pretty name for a pretty face,” he flirted.

You snorted, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

You couldn’t help but be drawn to this man who had risked his life to save you. If it wasn’t for him you’d be lifeless upon the table with something horrible reviving into the world.

Seeing that his team had everything well in hand Dante scooped you from the table. The shorter haired woman nodded in Dante’s direction when he told them he was getting you out of that nightmare-ish place.

“Wanted you for your magic did he,” Dante asked just wanting to make small talk. Though he had a motive, he wanted to get to know you better.

“Yeah,” you said comfortable with being held by him. “Apparently I have some sort of revival magic.”

“Well that’s cool,” he said looking at your soft hair and pink cheeks.

“It’s not cool if things want to kill you over it.”

He nodded in agreement, “That part sucks of course. But it is still pretty cool, having abilities. You’re like me!”

This was the first time in your life that someone had thought your magic was cool. And not only did he think it was cool, apparently he had some sort of powers too. For one he was super strong and you could have sworn he had been stabbed a couple times. But now this Dante was carrying you out of your tomb like nothing had happened at all. Ambulances waited outside what looked like an abandoned building, but it hid what really lurked inside. Dante sat you on a stretcher telling the medics some story of how some men had kidnapped you and wanted you for ransom. You were tortured before Dante could get to you in time. He looked over to wink at you, you knew that normal humans wouldn’t believe that you were taken by demons to revive their master that would doom the world. Heck you wouldn’t have believed such a story not too long ago, despite being different yourself.

You were being loaded into an ambulance to be transported to the local hospital for treatment and fluids. Dante promised to come see you in the hospital before the doors of the ambulance closed. He had never believed in love at first sight until today. Maybe he had felt what his father had when meeting his mother. He had to get to know you more and maybe he could help you understand this gift you had been blessed with. Maybe he could even teach you how to take care of and defend yourself in case any other devils decided to try and take you. Though he was firmly set on that they would have to get through him first as he wanted to stay by your side. He hadn’t had much happiness in his life, but deep down he think that destiny was waiting for him to meet you. So he kinda felt like he owed the scum inside the building for bringing you two together. Nero could tell something was going on with his mentor, but he decided not to pry. It would only cause Dante to tease him or bring something up that would make Nero want to punch him. As they loaded back up in the van to get back to the office, Dante was hard to live with until he got to see you again. And while you recovered Dante was there everyday making the days go by quickly. Though you couldn’t explain it there was something special between you two and you were ready to explore it and him.

[bepp-ers]

Only Human | Yandere! Solomon X Reader

oki oki so thankyu to this anon for requesting some Yandere! Solomon and Yandere! Satan. this is the first of two (2)! also, i am trying out the new Tumblr editor so if some things are different, you know why. second version should be up soon after this! <3

You watched with disinterest as your teacher went over some demon subject you weren't interested in enough to care, and quietly flicked through your notes.

Unfortunately, none of the brothers were in this class with you, so you'd have to meet with them afterwards.

'Thank god there's only a few more minutes...'

-

After gathering your things, you slipped away from the classroom, texting the group chat to tell people where you were.

Scanning the hallways, you grinned as you spotted the 2nd youngest of the brothers.

You were about to approach him, when someone tapped your shoulder. You jumped, spinning around quickly.

"Hey, [MC]." "Solomon! Don't sneak up on me like that, jeez." "Ahaha, did I scare you?" "Course not. Anyway, need something?"

His smiled widened. "Yes, actually, I could use an extra pair of hands back at Purgatory Hall. I was going to ask Simeon, but he and Luke are busy."

You glanced back to where you had seen Beel, but he was gone. You shrugged. "Sure, I like magical hijinks. Lemme just text Luci, and we can go."

You sent a text to Lucifer and walked with Solomon, leaving the school grounds together.

"Hey, [MC], where are ya goin'?" You turned at the sound of Mammon's voice, seeing that he was accompanied by Asmo and Beel.

"What Mammon meant was where are you two going without me?" Asmo sidled up to you and linked his arm with yours.

"Ah, [MC]'s just helping me back at Purgatory Hall. I'd love to have you along, but it requires assistance from a human. Otherwise I'd love to have you along."

"Aww. Fine, see you later [MC]! And you, Solomon!" "See ya." Beel was probably to focused on food to care that much.

Mammon, however, was not pleased. "Wait a sec' - You're a human! Ya' could just do it yourself!" Solomon chuckled, though you sensed it wasn't genuine.

"Well, [MC] here is my little helper. Now, if you'll excuse us." He put an arm around your shoulder and escorted you away, without further qualms.

-

"Sorry about Mammon, he can be such a meat head at times..." "Don't worry about it, I'm aware he's no angel." You giggled, and followed Solomon to his room.

You had always been fond of his room. There was so much going on, you could barely tell what was what.

In one corner, you saw several small ornate cauldrons sat upon an intricately carved table. You'd always thought of cauldrons as huge and old, but these looked brand new.

"As you can see, I've got everything ready. I need someone to add the ingredients in a specific order. Meanwhile, I need to prepare a separate concoction."

"Complicated stuff." "Eh, not really. I've written a list for the order of ingredients, and when to add them. Here," He handed you a list written on crisp parchment.

You scanned it, positive it was simple enough for you to follow.

"Your handwriting is surprisingly neat. Cool, I can do this. Just let me know when you want me to begin." “Mm, sure. You can start now, if you’d like.”

You nodded and got to work. First on the list: Angel Feather. ‘No guessing where he got that one.’

Secondly, Crushed Rubies. ‘Mammon would snort this stuff, hundred percent.’

You continued adding ingredients until there were none left, and you were left with a pastel pink mixture, with the texture of a smooth paint. You called Solomon to inspect it, and he beamed at you.

“That’s wonderful, you’re a natural. I’ll add the two together now,” He took your concoction and slowly began pouring it in. They swirled together, and you expected something crazy to happen.

It didn’t though, instead it simply all changed to that pinkish colour. “It looks pretty.” “Mm, I agree.” You thought for a moment, and then realised something.

You had no idea what this magical mixture did. “So, what does this stuff do, exactly?” He glanced over at you, and then shrugged. 

“You don’t know??” “Maybe. I have a feeling I know, but the tome I found it in never actually specified.” “Oh. So... how are you gonna find out?” 

He grinned. “Well, there’s a few ways. I think I’m going to go with testing it out on someone, though.” 

You blinked. “That’s gonna be me, isn’t it?” “You’re so clever, [MC] . Just sit there for a moment please.”

You rolled your eyes as he turned around. Of course you’d ended up trying another mystery concoction. You just prayed it wasn’t as bad as his cooking.

“Viola. Here you go.” He turned to face you, holding a little bowl of the pink potion. You took it, and held it closely to your face.

“It won’t kill you, you know.” “I know, it just... it smells familiar. Bottoms up I guess...” 

You took a sip of the substance, and then a larger gulp. Finishing the dregs, you licked your lips. “Well? Did I grow antlers or something cool?”

Solomon shook his head. “That’s a shame, it doesn’t seem to work. How did it taste, anyway?”

You paused. “I don’t know, like strawberry mi-- ack!!”

Coughing, you raised a hand to your mouth. Your eyes widened when you took it away and there was blood dripping down your palm.

“Solomon...?” You spluttered, the bowl clattering to the floor. With a shriek, you followed suit, more blood pouring from your mouth. “Sol....Solomon help! Wh-- agh- what was that potion?!”

You keeled over, clutching at your torso and mouth. To your horror, he simply smiled, kneeling down besides you. He reached a hand out, gently moving your hair from your face.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m glad the potion worked, aren’t you?”

-

Strawberries. That sweet taste mixed with blood danced on your lips, as you bolted up from the chair you were sat on. 

Was it all just a cruel dream? Maybe Belphie was controlling your dreams for fun again...

Nope. Looking around, you didn’t recall your surroundings. 

An room, whites, blues and golden hues trimming every surface, every edge.

The only issue was simply that there were no windows, and only one door. You rushed over to it, but as you neared your hand, the air around it pulsed and a shock rippled through your arm.

You voiced your pain out loud, and staggered over to the nearby mirror.

“W-wait, my pact mark...”

Scorched. That was all you could use to describe the bare skin on your neck, where the Avatar of Lust had made a pact with you.

Frantically scouring your body, you noted that all of your pacts had been damaged in one way or another, leaving you unable to summon any of the Brothers.

“Aw, did you lose something, MC?” 

That voice. Smug, arrogant, silvery... You turned to glare at the sorcerer, seething. He stood by the grand bed, carefully observing you.

“W-what did you do?!” Was all you could manage, before collapsing from a sudden wave of exhaustion.

“I’m doing this for you, love. It’s only necessary, after all..”

“...You’re only human, [MC].”

-

i really hope this is okay as i come back into writing for this account. there’s so much i have done, and i just got overwhelmed. i’m back and i’m gonna try to look after me a bit more. i got back into obey me! swd? so that’s good. feel free to request, my tiny rat brain thrived on inboxes. love you guys! <3

[theshelbyclan]

Bells and Smoke

Summary: The youngest Shelby has to be send away to a convent, but you have no intention of conforming to their rules, even if you’ll die in the process

(Gif by @harmon-jane-black​) A/N: Requested by anon: Could I request a Shelby sister where she is sent off to a boarding school and is getting badly bullied by teachers and pupils for being what they think is Birmingham poor scum. Maybe she comes home or gets visited and is losing her Birmingham accent and is a little thin and tired. V Polly and tommy nun scene vibes. Only if you aren't busy ❣️ x This has gotten really long, but this request gave me SO many ideas! Warning for abuse and neglect though. And I hope you like it!

Words: 6020 *** You couldn’t remember how it had all happened. One minute everything seemed to be fine and the next, life as you knew it had ended. Maybe it was Tommy’s idea, to give you the opportunities the others never had. But he never cared much about his siblings’ education. Maybe it was Arthur’s idea, thinking you’d finally become too wild. But he was too busy fighting his own demons. Maybe it was Aunt Pol’s idea, making a woman of style and class out of you. But she’d never abandon you like this. 

All you knew was that one morning you had been in bed. As usual, you’d woken up with the workers as the factory whistles sounded, but there was no need for you to get up at five. So you’d turned around and tried to sleep on. But then Finn had come in and he roughly shook you awake. “Aunt Pol says you have to get up,” he had said, his voice filled with urgency. But you hadn’t been awake fully yet, “What… Why? It’s so early!” “You have to pack.” “For what? Where are we going?” Your brother had refused to meet your eye, “Not me. Just you.” And before you knew it, Aunt Polly had taken you and your small bag into the car and you were speeding out of Birmingham. At least Finn had come along, though Polly had forbidden him to go, but he had been adamant. “Where are we going?” you had whispered to him in the back. He had hardly replied to any of your question, but gave evasive answers like, “Away. Pol says it won’t be forever.” You remembered the all-encompassing feeling of loneliness that had washed over you in that moment. Was it something you had done? Were you being punished? Was the family giving you up? You were only fifteen, you’d never been away from Small Heath without any of your siblings by your side, and the separation had been too abrupt, too cruel. Suddenly, Aunt Polly had swerved to the right and stopped abruptly in front of the train station. “Get you bag,” she’d ordered you. Anger had flared inside of you, “No! You tell me where I’m going first!” “Y/N Shelby, I am your aunt and you will do as I say. Remember who you’re talking to and don’t think for one second that you will win this fight. Grab your bag and get out of the car.” Petrified at your aunt’s tone of voice, you’d gotten out of the car. And like a zombie, you’d walked over to the train. On the side it said Oxford. “Where do I get off?” You’d asked no one in particular. “Oxford,” your brother had never left your side, “Just sit tight until the end.” “You know what’s going on.” “I can’t change it, Y/N,” his eyes had been pleading for your forgiveness in that one moment, “I tried, I swear to God I did, but I can’t change it…” Not really understanding, you had only been able to nod, “Will you explain it to me?” “I’ll write.” Suddenly, tears had begun to fall from your eyes. The great unknown hadn’t even scared you that much, but the sudden realisation that everything had been altered had. “Here,” Finn had nudged you, as you’d hoisted your bag on board, “I nicked this for you,” and he’d handed you a hipflask, “might get you as far as Oxford. After that, you’re on your own.” His words had hit you hard, so there’d been nothing left to do but take a swig from the whiskey he offered. “What did I do wrong?” you’d asked him, uncertain. “Nothing. Don’t let the bastards tell you otherwise. You did nothing.” His voice had been so strong then. “Finn?” “Yeah?” “You can’t fucking write.” He’d burst out laughing and you couldn’t help yourself but join him. Then the train had started to depart and you’d taken one last look at the car with Aunt Pol’s silhouette inside. You’d turned to Finn and it’d been like you would never see him again. “Finn?” “Yeah?” “I bloody love you, you know?” He’d smirked, “I fucking love you too.” Eyes still locked, the train had started to move and just before it was too late, he’d added, “I’ll make sure you’re coming back home.” You’d clung to those words *** At five in the morning, the whistles sounded. Waking up this early was now your habit, as it was the habit of all the girls here. Like robots, you all climbed out of your sober beds, to put on your drab grey dresses and to stand neatly next to year beds. The dormitory looked like a prison cell and the girls’ faces were ashen. Shivering in the cold, you waited for inspection. “Adams!” “Yes, sister.” “Lee!” “Yes, sister.” “Williams!” “Yes, sister.” The first voice rang through the room like the bells of hell and the girls answered in meek tones. This was your morning ritual and there was no comfort to be found in it. Silently, you waited, while a part of you still dreamed of the horses you once loved and rode. Remember the freedom you felt, you told yourself. Remember the wind in your hair? The people who cared? The place called home? Remember Finn running alongside you? “Shelby!” You suddenly looked up, “Yes, sister,” and faced the nun who’d stopped by your bed. “What’s this?” she asked her rhetorical question. “My bed,” you weren’t supposed to answer, but it had escaped you before you could stop yourself. The middle-aged woman crouched down and tore up the neat bedding you’d just finished tucking in perfectly. Locking eyes with you, she gloated, “Look, it isn’t made properly.” “It was,” you replied through gritted teeth, “you just went and fucked it up again.” Without a warning, she struck you across the face hard. Then she flipped over the bed in one smooth motion and said, without any emotion, “Do it again.” Seething with rage, you counted to ten in your head. In your mind, you went back to Small Heath. You could feel the warmth of the fire in your kitchen, hear the men counting the money and could smell Aunt Polly’s cooking. This and only this was how you managed not to explode. “Ankins!” she continued her list. “Yes, sister.” “Elliot!” She was new here and you looked at her without turning your head, a skill you’d mastered in recent weeks. Some of the girls said she’d gotten pregnant, but she’d lost the baby before coming here. No one really knew what had happened to her. You only thought she looked too young, too fragile, like a little bird that could be squashed with a single movement of the hand. “Yes…” she mumbled, practically inaudibly. “Speak up, girl!” She hardly increased her volume, but repeated, “Yes, sister.” Just as you’d promised yourself you’d try to look out for her, evil incarnate turned around to face you again and snapped, “Shelby. You’ll report to my office after you’ve finished making your bed, properlythis time.” Great, you thought. After she’d left, you looked at your hands in resignation. Faint white lines betrayed the cane that had been on them. They’d only just healed. *** A few months earlier, Tommy was meeting a man dressed in black in an alleyway. As the rain was pouring down on Small Heath, they spoke in urgent whispers. “What did she do this time?” the concerned brother said with a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. “Theft, mainly,” the other replied, “And she was seen at the races, leaving the scene of the murder.” Tommy knew his sister hadn’t been responsible for the death that day, but none of it mattered now, “How much do they know?” “Enough.” Tommy took another drag of his cigarette and paused for a second, “Well, what do they want?” “Nothing. Leverage.” “Fuck…” “Thomas,” the informant urged, “Get her out. Out of Small Heath, and do it fast.” “Where the fuck is she supposed to go?” He shrugged, “Don’t you have family some place else?” “Can’t protect our Y/N when she’s away from here,” Tommy said coldly, not betraying the emotions he felt. “Then send her somewhere she will be protected.” Tommy sighed deeply, “I’ll ask Pol, eh? She’ll know what to do.” The man looked at Thomas Shelby: gangster, businessman, brother. His face was impossible to read and his feelings remained hidden. So he said, “Do it tonight, Thomas, if you can. He said she’d hang for it. Get her out.” ***

The first time you had tried to escape you didn’t think about it. You hadn’t even planned it and had just decided to run. With two nuns hot on your heels, you’d raced through the corridors. Pretty soon, you ran into your first locked door. You knew all was lost there and then. “Shelby…” the mother superior had mused as you stood in her office, “I knew it would be you.” “And how the fuck would you know that?” you’d replied quick as a flash. “You watch your tone, filthy rat,” she’d shouted, but added calmly, “We know of your kind, child.” Through gritted teeth, you’d questioned, “And what kind would that be?” “Gypsy scum,” she’d spat, before beating you senseless for the first time. The second time you tried to escape, you’d thought it through more. In the middle of the night, you’d crept out of bed and tiptoed across the dormitory. “Get back in bed!” one of the girls had whispered, “Remember last time?” “Yeah, I fucking remember, that’s why I need to leave!” you’d whispered back, voice filled with urgency.

Two hairpins. The day you’d found those were the day you’d planned your second escape attempt. Because if growing up in Small Heath had taught you one thing, it was how to steal and lie and cheat. And, coincidentally, how to pry open any lock. The first locked door was conquered quickly, but the second one had proven to be more troublesome. The large black doors that were said to protect you from the outside world did their job of keeping you all caged inside. The hairpins were too small to reach all the tumblers. Cursing under your breath, you’d soon realised that you disappearance had been noticed. In a panic, you’d grabbed a chandelier from the chapel and broken a window. Ignoring the shards you’d climbed through, while they tore at your skin and blood stained your nightgown. Once outside, the fresh air had an intoxicating effect on you. But you’d never gotten far. Again, you were brought to the mother superior, who stood waiting eagerly this time, cane in hand. “Go on,” you’d urged, full of defiance, “Beat me and get it over with.” “No…” she’d said suddenly, “you will tell me what your plan was first.” “To fucking get out.” “Why would you want to leave this place?” she’d questioned innocently, “Why would you want to leave the house of the Lord, where we only want to offer you safety and education? Where you can atone for your sins and regain your place in heaven?” “I’m not an animal,” you’d replied, “I need to be free.” And with that, the nun had smirked at you, “Free. You want to be free. Well, maybe this will finally break your spirit.” They’d locked you up in the cellars for three weeks. Darkness had enveloped you, only broken when she came in to beat you or feed you. You could never be sure. After every beating, she’d say, “Now, I’ll pray to God for you and ask him for his forgiveness.” “I’ll do it myself,” came your steady answer each time, “I’ll deal with him on my own.” And in the dark you’d cling onto the black Madonna around your neck, the only mother you still had left in this Godforsaken place. Now, some girls would be broken by now, but not you. If anything, you’d been more determined than ever to get out. But you had to be smart about it. Maybe Aunt Pol wouldn’t take you back and maybe you’d shame Tommy, but Finn would look out for you. Running hadn’t worked so far, so a new plan had started to form in your mind: a new plan that involved the boy that delivered the bread. Because as the days droned on after you were being released, you started paying attention to the delivery boy for the first time. You knew he’d always had a thing for you, but you weren’t interested. As a way out, you were now extremely interested. “Hi,” you greeted when it was your turn to help him unload. He was so startled by your talking all of a sudden, all he could manage was, “Bread…” “Yeah,” you smiled your prettiest smile, “Bread. That’s what you’re here for, right?” “I am.” “Good,” and you continued to unload the crates, sending him a few glances over your shoulder. He was still rooted to the spot, so you decided a bit more effort was required in this case, “You only come here for the bread?” you asked with humour in your voice. “Well, that’s my job…” he almost stuttered, but when you made eye contact, he finally relaxed a little, “What else would I come here for?” “Me?” you asked innocently. You could tell his confidence was growing, “Well, maybe a little. I mean, you are the prettiest girl in the school.” That was easy, you thought. So you flirted on and chatted him up and soon he was all yours, “Your name’s Billy, right?” “Yeah.” “Well, Billy. I need a favour…” This plan was a lot more complicated but it had a higher chance of success. And it would’ve worked too, if it hadn’t been for the younger nun who’d spotted you talking to Billy. Before the third attempt had even taken place, you found yourself back at the office. This time, the mother superior didn’t even speak. As soon as you were marched in, she’d grabbed you by your hair and attacked you with a pair of scissors. “Get off me, you crazy bitch!” you screeched, as strands of your hair fell down left and right of you. But the old nun remained completely calm in her tone, while becoming increasingly vicious in her attack, “Do you know what we do here?” You clenched your jaw for the pain, because this was no longer just about cutting your hair, but also hurting you as much as possible in the process. You had about a thousand replies to her question, but quickly weighed your options and decided not to piss off an angry old nun with a deadly weapon in her hands. So she continued, “We offer you the gift of education. Through hard labour, lots of prayer and penance the girls can find their way back to Jesus Christ. By humbling yourself, denying yourself rest, food and drink even, and working beyond human endurance one may come closer to our Lord. Save yourself from eternal damnation.” “No, thanks,” you replied inaudibly. When your hair had been cut, she crowed, “Your arrogance has been defeated and your vanity has been lifted. You will do well here now.” The fuck you would.

*** “Aunt Pol?” “What?” the woman snapped. He faltered, “Is this a bad time?” “It’s never a good time. Speak up, Finn.” “Fine,” and he took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself, “When’s Y/N coming home?” Aunt Polly turned around abruptly and said, “For fuck’s sake, Finn.” “It’s been months!” “And we haven’t heard from her,” with a large gesture, Aunt Polly threw some more wood onto the fire, “If something was wrong, she would’ve written.” “Well, no…” her nephew started protesting. “Yes,” his aunt interrupted him, “She’s fine. It’s Y/N. She can take care of herself.” “She can’t now, can she!” Finn suddenly erupted, “Yousend her away and for fucking what?! She didn’t do anythingwrong!” Polly held up a menacing hand, “You mind your fucking tone or I’ll slap you back to where you came from.” “I’m sixteen, Aunt Pol, same age as Y/N. Remember, we’re twins?” He’d only gotten more heated, “Something’s wrong. I can feel it, alright? And she wouldn’t write to you anyways, because you’re the one that send her away! Why would she write to someone who doesn’t even fuckingwant her?” Polly paused for a moment and seemed to calm down, “What do you mean you feel it?” “I just know, Aunt Pol, like when we were little and she fell in the Cut and I couldn’t breathe? It’s like that, only… longer.” She put down her black cigarette, “You’ve been dreaming, haven’t you?” “I dream about her, but I can never see her,” he nodded, “And sometimes…”

“What?” “It’s stupid…” “Finn, you tell me, right now!” everything about her was focused on the urgency of the situation now. But he didn’t understand, “Seagulls, alright? I keep dreaming about seagulls.” “Fuck,” his aunt whispered to herself, “I need to talk to Tommy.”

“Aunt Pol, you’re missing the fucking point!” he was seething again, “I was trying to talk to you about Y/N! I just want to know why you send her away and whenshe’s coming back!” “I didn’t send her away. Tommy said we didn’t have a choice,” she grabbed her coat and continued talking to herself, “I thought she’d be safe there…” “Isn’t she?” Finn asked, panicking as a result of his aunt’s strange behaviour. “Seagulls, Finn, fucking seagulls!” *** You couldn’t understand why they hated you so much. At first it had just been the nuns, and you had a vague notion of them calling you ‘gypsy scum’ had something to do with it. From the start, they’d commented on your accent, reminded you of where you came from and told you that you were nothing compared to the others girls here. And in a way this made sense: on the one hand this school had the outward appearance of being an institution of learning for young ladies, but the reality was very different. Parents who no longer wanted to deal with them or who had ‘shamed’ their families often dumped girls here. Others were orphans. Either way, the nuns collected the large amount of money paid for each girl and treated all of you badly. And you weren’t a complete idiot and you knew you were partially to blame for the situation as it was now. You knew you hadn’t made a great entrance when you walked into the school, but even from the start they had disliked you. But your resistance had made it worse, much worse. All the girls were treated harshly, had to work and were kept in line, but you were being treated like a slave held captive. There was zero intention on your part to come into the school to make friends. From the moment you’d stepped off that train, you’d decided you were done with people. All you wanted was your brother, and the rest of the family if they still wanted you. But after a few weeks, you had started craving some connections and you had tried to make friends with the other girls. But it soon became clear that you had very little in common with them. This however, wasn’t the main problem: they feared you. Your defiance made them anxious to be around you and receive similar punishments to yours. They kept away. “Elliot!” you whispered to the new girl, who was crying in the dark. You rolled onto your other side in bed to face her and tried to ask her gently, “What’s your name, your first name I mean?” After a few residual sobs, she said softly, “Anna.” “I had a cousin called Anna,” you smiled at her, “Why are you crying? Who do you miss?” “It’s not who I miss, it’s about who doesn’t miss me…” “How do you know…” you started, but you were interrupted. “Don’t talk to her!” another girl called out and Anna turned around to look at her. The girl continued, “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Don’t talk to Y/N. She’ll get you in trouble. Just… stay away from her.” Anna looked at you for a few seconds, eyes filled with fear and then she turned onto her other side. You couldn’t even blame her really. She was new. But slowly, it only got worse. All the girls crossed the halls when you passed and not only did they begin to shun you, but they started taking your things, stealing your food at times and made you an outcast in every sense of the word. And you suddenly understood: if they made you stand out even more, all the attention would be drawn to you. The nuns would leave them alone. You were the easy scapegoat, because you’d been the most likely choice from the start. And as the months wore on, you started to wither away. Jealous or full of hatred, you couldn’t tell, but the other girls tried to hurt you as much as the nuns did. You were cold at night because they’d taken your blankets. You didn’t eat because you were being punished. You didn’t sleep because you were locked up downstairs and the beatings kept you awake. And so you fell ill, heavily. After you recovered, you stopped eating, sleeping, fighting. Not because you no longer could, but because the loneliness had finally caught up with you: you no longer wanted to. *** Tommy watched his aunt as she strode over towards him. He’d known the woman for years and usually he would be annoyed by her interrupting his meeting, but by the way she walked, he knew she wouldn’t wait for anyone right now. “Get out,” she told the man Tommy had been talking too. He left at once. “It’s Y/N,” she said as soon as he’d gone, “We need to get her out.” “She’s at the school, the one you recommended, Pol. You told me she’d get a good education there.” “We were wrong, Thomas, wrong to send her away.” “What’s all this, eh?” he frowned, “We had no choice and she alright where she is. We took care of it.” With a wave of her hand, Polly referred to Finn, “He feels she’s in danger.” And Tommy turned to his youngest brother, raising his eyebrows sarcastically, “Is that right?” “I have a bad feeling, Tom…” Finn said uncertainly. “He’s been dreaming of seagulls,” Polly emphasized, locking eyes with her nephew. “Fucking seagulls…” he rubbed his head, “More gypsy witchcraft?” Swiftly, she slapped Tommy across the face, “You’ve forgotten where you’re from.” Quickly, Tommy’s face went through a range of emotions. First there was anger and the urge to strike back. Then there was the reaction of wanting to hide, like he was being chastised just like when he was little. The hurt over her comment came next, swiftly followed by a sense of shame, because she was right. His face settled on worry over his youngest sister. “What do we do?” “What will happen if we get her back to Small Heath?”

Tommy lit a cigarette and thought out loud, “Connor wants her dead. He has high influence in the police and he’s using her as leverage, after having seen her at the races.” “Y/N didn’t kill that soldier!” Finn called out, full of indignation. “Yes, we know…” Tommy said in a low voice, “But that doesn’t fucking matter because no one’s going to believe our word for it against his.” “Who else knows?” Polly continued. “My guess is no one does yet…” “JOHN!” Polly howled suddenly and for a second Tommy could only blink. Then he continued, “If anyone else knew, we’d heard by now. I’m guessing he intends to save the information for when he can use it.” Aunt Polly bend down and started unlacing one of her boots. That’s when John walked in and he immediately paused when he felt the tension hang in the air. “Take this,” she ordered him and handed him the small revolver that she kept hidden in her boots, “Shoot Connor.” “Fucking what?” he nearly spit out his toothpick. John looked at Tommy for an explanation, but it didn’t come. Instead Tommy asked Polly, “Then what?” “We go to Oxford.” Tommy nodded slowly, “John, go on. Shoot the man. Get Arthur out of bed when you’ve done it.” Shrugging like it was just another small task he had to fulfil without much enthusiasm, John walked off with the gun in hand. But Finn said carefully, “What if I was wrong?” “Have you ever been wrong about your sister?” Aunt Polly asked, “Apart from that time you thought she was in love with that Jewish boy…” “No.” “Trust your gut, Finn,” Tommy confirmed, “Pol’s right.” Aunt Polly smiled at him with an almost motherly warmth, “Let’s bring Y/N home.” *** Eventually you were moved to the hospital wing of the school. The neglect and lack of food had caused your body to shut down and you could no longer force yourself to get up each morning. At first, you were branded lazy and got punished for it. Finally, even the nuns acknowledged this was serious and the last thing they needed was another girl dying at their school. You’d lost all feeling for days, drifting in and out of sleep. One nun took care of you and she was different from the others. During your hazy periods, she tried to persuade you to eat, but with the last strength you did have, you refused. If you were to die, it’d be your own choice. “Y/N…” someone whispered to you gently. You tried to open your eyes, but it felt like lifting bricks with muscles you did not have. “Y/N,” the voice said again, and you realised this wasn’t the nun. Slowly you opened your eyes and saw Anna, sitting by the side of your bed. “What do you want?” you croaked. She looked down and said, “I came to see you.” “Why?” “Because I’ve made a mistake.”

You didn’t care for her feelings. You knew she despised you just like the others did and you didn’t need another girl gloating by your bed. So you decided to just wait and not answer her. “The girls told me you were scum,” she continued, “that you didn’t belong here. They said that’s why you always got into trouble, because you’re just Birmingham working-class trash.” Great, you thought, and how is this supposed to help? “When they told me to not talk to you, I listened. I thought it would help, that I would fit in more and the nuns wouldn’t beat me like I saw them do with others. But I was wrong.” “The nuns don’t need a reason,” you replied before you could stop yourself, “Reasons help, but they will find a way to vent their cruelty, no matter what.” “That night,” Anna said, “you talked to me and asked me who I missed. You were the only one that asked me why I was crying.” “I didn’t want you to feel too alone…” Anna nodded, “I know. That’s why I’m here.” But you didn’t understand, “Why are you here?” “Y/N. You’re not alone. Tell me, who do you miss?” Much to your own annoyance, tears welled up in your eyes. For last couple of months you had tried so hard not to think of Finn, Arthur, John and Ada. And you tried to ban Polly and Tommy especially from your mind, always wondering why they didn’t want you. Your heart can be cruel like that: those who don’t want you, you miss the most. Anna took your hand in hers and for the first time you felt another human being without pain. And so you started telling her of your brothers, of your aunt, of the horses and factories and of the streets of Small Heath. Anna didn’t say a word, but she listened intensely. After you’d cried all your tears and there were no more stories left to tell, all she said was, “Please. Eat.” When she offered you soup, you ate. *** It was a sight to behold: Polly Gray walking through the city of academia with four brothers practically having to run after her to keep up. When she arrived at the front doors of the convent, she didn’t ask to come in, but simply walked on into the halls. “Aunt Pol,” John ventured, “What do we do?”

“Keep up,” she said simply. Arthur looked around nervously. He didn’t like nuns and convents. But Tommy and Finn scanned every room and corner for you. Left and right, girls looked up in surprise as the strange family invaded their home. “Who’s that?” they whispered. But the nuns urged them away and said, “No one. Don’t look at them. They don’t belong here.” Tommy frown deepened as he noticed the faces of the girls. These weren’t what he expected. Of course, he wasn’t familiar with schools like this one, but he knew education played a part. These girls all looked tired, downtrodden and most of them were cleaning or scrubbing the floors. He shared a look with Aunt Polly and she nodded in understanding. “How are we going to find her?” Finn asked. “Oi!” Arthur called out to one of the girls, who jumped up at his voice, “Y/N, you know her?” “No, sir…” she shook. “Listen to my voice,” John added, “What about a girl who sounds like me?” And then one other girl stepped forward and she tilted her chin up high as a sign of arrogance, “She’s not here.” “And whyis she not here?” Polly asked pointedly. The girl got nervous, but tried to keep composure, “Because she’s filth and this is a decent school.” Again, Tommy looked around at the skinny girls, all dressed in the same drab depressing dressed, “Decent, eh?” His low menacing voice knocked all the attitude out of her, so she changed her mind, “She was taken to the hospital ward a few weeks ago.” “Where,” Arthur demanded. “North wing,” she gulped.

Aunt Polly marched through the halls like a woman on a mission. Her face bore a gritty look of determination and none of the bells, smoke and threats of a holy place could make her quiver. In fact, God shook as she walked passed.

Still, one nun tried to stop her, but before she could open her mouth in protest, Aunt Polly had pushed her aside and casually commented, “Better get out of the way, sister, you certainly won’t be the first woman of God I’ve knocked down.” When they entered the hospital wing, they walked into another depressing space filled with beds in lines. Most of them were empty, but one nun stood up and walked over to Polly. Her first instinct was to actually knock down this one, but when she saw her soft face, she paused. “Y/N Shelby,” she demanded, “We’ve come to take her home.”

“You’re her aunt?” the nun asked, “She’s asked for you.” “Is she alright?” Finn stepped forward, “What was wrong with her?” “We thought she might not make it. She stopped eating, you see,” the nun explained. John frowned and protested, “That’s not Y/N. She would never refuse food, unless…” Tommy didn’t need to hear the ‘unless’; worry was already eating him alive inside. So he walked around in search for his sister. He found her in a bed, with another girl sitting next to her. His sister was asleep. “Who are you?” Polly demanded harshly. But the brothers couldn’t speak when they saw their sisters. You were too skinny, eyes sunken deep and bruises were still visible on your face. The long black hair was gone. In many ways, it wasn’t their sister anymore, just a shell. The nun answered when the other girl was too afraid to, “This is Y/N’s friend. She came to visit her every day, even though she wasn’t allowed to.” Polly lifted one eyebrow, “Then why did you allow it?” “Anna got Y/N to eat again. She’s the reason she’s alive.”

Anna. Polly walked over to her and carefully took her hand, “You watched over my niece.” “I didn’t want her to feel alone. She felt abandoned, she said…” Anna said in a soft voice. Polly shook her head in an effort to banish the emotions, “Thank you, Anna. You’re a good friend and a guardian angel.” “What did they do to her?” John asked her through gritted teeth. “She was isolated, singled out for being… different.” Anna explained without meeting their eyes, “She tried to fight them from the start, but never won. She kept trying to run away. They beat her, kept her locked up in the cellar, but when the other girls turned on her and she thought she would never leave this place, she just… gave up.” Slowly, Finn had walked over to the other side of the bed. Clumsy but lovingly, he started stroking the hair out of your face. Seagulls, he thought. “Who’s in charge here?” Tommy suddenly spoke. “The mother superior has an office down the hall,” the nun said, “Anna can take you there.” “No,” Anna gasped, “I can’t…” Fear was written all over her face.

“What’s wrong with the office?” Tommy asked her with unusual kindness. “It’s where she…” And in an instant they all understood. So Tommy demanded, “Tell that woman to come here.” “She won’t like it, sir…” “You fuckingtell her to come here,” Tommy spat filled with venom, “Or I will burn this entire place down to the ground, and don’t think for a second I won’t fucking do it.” So the nun with the gentle face nodded and walked off. Somehow, Tommy’s explosion had triggered some old memories in you. Before you were properly awake, you dreamed of being back in your bed in Small Heath. The smell of the factories penetrated your nose and you could hear your family arguing. But when you opened your eyes, they were actually there. You looked at them one by one and stopped at Finn, “You said you’d explain.” “And I will,” he said, “when we get home.” “Am I allowed to go home?” you questioned in disbelieve. Aunt Polly shook her head, “You should’ve never been anywhere else.” “Can’t protect you if you’re not at home…” Tommy added with a slight hint of guilt in his voice. “It’s safe now,” John said, “I’ve dealt with it.” And just the way he said it made you smile a little. “Arthur, John,” Tommy started ordering them in his usual business-like manner, “Take Y/N out of here.” And Arthur lifted you out of the bed into his arms like it was nothing. “Finn, you go with them. Make sure you get her things.” At that, John pulled a gun and Finn nodded solemnly. “What about Anna?” you asked, looking at your friend, “I won’t leave her here.” “Pol and I are going to have a word with the mother superior,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly. You sighed in relief, but Anna still had a look of confusion on her face, “What will that do? She won’t listen to anyone.” “She’ll listen to us, love,” Polly said to her with a reassuring smile that left very little room for arguments, “We’ll make sure of it.” You smiled at Anna too, “This convent will be closed by tomorrow. Trust me.” “We’ll see you at home, Y/N,” Tommy said, “And then we’ll talk.” Just before Arthur walked out of the door with you in your arms, Aunt Polly ran over to you and pressed a kiss on your forehead, “Safe journey, sweetheart.” Then there was just Tommy and Polly left, clearing their faces of all sentiment and hardening their features. Arms crossed, they waited and knew what had to be done, and nothing would stop them from doing it.

“Mr. Shelby, Mrs. Gray?” the hospital nun had reappeared, “The mother superior will see you now.”

***

Masterlist

[uwuwriting]

A little early for that w/ Todoroki, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: hii can i req a hc of todo, shinsou, and bakugou seeing y/n taking care of eri then they’ll be like “i want a baby with you” :D - anonymous

Don’t get me started on the latest BNHA chapter. I just don’t want to talk about it. I’ll try to make a double upload today so maybe expect a song fic after this one Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Todoroki Shoto 

-It was during Eri’s visit during christmas that it hit Todo. 

-You were dressed in a Santa costume just like everyone else with Eri gripping your hand as you took her around the room explaining all about Christmas celebrations. 

-It was a very mundane moment if you think about it. 

-You were being kind and caring to a child who had suffered immensely at the hands of Overhaul and you wanted to show her what the holiday was all about. 

-Now that he thinks of it, it shouldn’t have struck him like it did. 

-His chest became warm and fuzzy, his cheeks heating up a bit as he stared at you and Eri. 

-Then you kneeled down and brought Eri into a hug, raising her into the air so she could place an ornament on the class’s tree and it was game over for him. 

-He prides himself in being a rather collected person but at that moment he lost all sense of control over his emotions. 

-His mouth hung open and his chest started to squeeze, knocking the breath out of him. 

-He couldn’t help the thoughts of the both of  you owning a house somewhere not very far from Tokyo, waking up to you every morning , making breakfast with you and enjoying all the moments you shared. 

-Then other images flooded his mind. 

-Sitting in the living room as you steadied your toddler, a perfect mix of the two of you, helping them waddle towards him. 

-Him helping them place the ornament at the very top of your Christmas tree every time you decorated.

-He could see your smile so vividly he almost thought it was real. 

-It was a ridiculous thought for a 16 year old to have and he knew it but in that moment he let himself imagine it. 

-Before he knew it you were standing next to him, Eri running off to Aizawa excited to share what she just learned about christmas,  arms crossed over your chest as you let out a happy sigh. 

- “My santa work is done for the day.”

- “You would make a great mom” 

- *pikachu meme*

-He sensed your confusion *and so did your dead ancestors*

- “I want to be next to you when that happens.” 

-Girl you got whiplash from this whole conversation. 

-You couldn’t decide if you were soft and giddy since he basically said that he wants to start a family with you or if you were terrified because he said he wants to start A FAMILY WITH YOU WHEN YOU’RE BARELY 16. 

-In his defense he didn’t say he wanted to start now. 

-So you kinda calmed down. 

- “I-um thank you Sho. I think you would make a great father too.”

-Blushy blushy baby after that one. 

-Some denial sprinkled on top because trauma but blushy blushy boy. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Okay now third year Shinsou is a stressed Shinsou. 

-A third year you is a stressed you. 

-And a field day with your now ten year old somewhat trauma free adopted by your homeroom teacher child was what you both needed. 

-Shinsou is like a big brother to Eri at this point. 

-He has babysat her one too many times to not be considered at least a stable figure in her life. 

-You had decided to take a stroll in the park, the autumn air and all the pretty leaves making it a sight to behold. 

-Plus it had a pond with ducks. 

-And you love ducks. 

-Shinsou had brought some bread crumbs so you could feed them and that’s what you were doing when it hit him. 

-That weird domesticity. 

-You were crouched down on Eri’s height, one arm wrapped securely around her small waist so she wouldn’t fall into the pond and the other was outstretched with a piece of bread, motioning to the ducks to approach you. 

-It was a nice scene, picture perfect if you asked him and it did something to his heart strings. 

-Just like Todo he imagined walking home with you after a tiring day at your agency, your hands intertwined, matching golden bands circling your ring fingers. 

-He imagined a little Y/N being next to you and not Eri. 

-Vibrant purple hair sticking out at every which direction as they would throw bread at the ducks maybe even calling him over when one got too close. 

-He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t noticed you standing in front of him, waving your hand over his eyes so you could get his attention. 

- “Earth to Toshi!” 

-You giggled when he shook his head, his eyes wide as he stared at your smiling features. 

- “Eri is hungry-” “You are hungry Y/N-chan!!!” “- and she wanted to go get some good old onigiri from that new shop that opened down the street.” “Lies…”

-You side-eyed the little girl who outed you, her own eyes staring right back in accusation as you let out a sigh saying under your breath “I’m hungry”

-He couldn’t control his laughter as it bubbled from his lips, ruffling Eri’s hair while giving you a kiss on the lips as he circled his arm around your waist and took Eri’s with his other one. 

- “Can’t say no to my girls now, can I?” 

-It was later that night when he voiced his thoughts. 

-You were asleep in his dorm, laying basically on him with your head tucked in his neck as you breathed evenly. 

- “It’s a little early to think of kids but I can’t wait to have one with you.” 

-And with that he fell asleep his dreams being filled with images of you.

Bakugou Katsuki 

-You managed to get him to say that???

-Mister tough as balls?

-Mister imma roundhouse kick you if you look at me with affection in your eyes?

-Someone get this girl a medal. 

-But in all seriousness it was a very motherly move. 

-You were in your second year, the events of the war with the villains still haunting all of you so everyone was keeping an eye on their loved ones and their classmates. 

-Bakugou was no exception .

-Seeing people getting hurt severely, seeing himself so defeated and hurt during those battles had rattled him and he would always linger close to you, a slight paranoia having taken his place in his heart the past few months. 

-You understood why he did it, why he hovered next to you most of the time and if you were being honest it didn’t really bother you * except from that one time you went to the bathroom and he called you three times in a row bc he couldn’t see you and panicked*

-Eri was running around with Kaminari and Sero, the three of them playing tag with the one brain cell they all shared at the moment. 

-Suddenly, Eri tripped and fell, scraping her knee on the pavement, small tears forming in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. 

-In a flash you were next to her, a hand massaging her knee around the area of the wound while the other one was cupping her cheek, your thumb making small circles on the girl’s cheekbones. 

- “It’s just a scratch. See? It’s not that bad.”

-Bakugou was just staring at the scene unfolding in front of him, his immediate thoughts being that you looked so motherly in that moment. 

-The concern and the reassurance reminded him of his mother when she would calm him down after he got hurt, before she became a pain in the ass *as he likes to say*.

-Without him even realizing it he made a mental image of your shared family. 

-A house in the outskirts, with a yard, maybe a dog running around. 

-But most importantly a little demon that looked like you, climbing onto your shared bed on his day off, nestling in between you two as it went back asleep.

-You making breakfast while having them in your arms. 

-He really wished he could see that now. 

-But he’s a little young and you wouldn’t really like having a baby before finishing high school sooo he kinda buried it. 

-He told you about it when you both were in his dorm getting ready for a movie night. 

-It was a more aggressive approach but you got the point of his little rant. 

- “I want to spend my life with you too Katsu.” 

- “SHUT UP SHITTY WOMAN!”

- “OI!”

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