#red cats in a glass labyrinth

[roguelov]

Green-Eyed Monster

Summary: While Morpheus takes care of the Dreaming, you find yourself enjoying a past time of yours: finding and cuddling cats of the Dreaming. It was a fun and innocent game. Or it was. One day, Morpheus spots you with a cat in your lap and strangely becomes jealous. So, how will he solve this? By becoming a cat himself, of course.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Reader: Gender Neutral (not explicit)

Warning: Some minor jealousy, mostly fluff, light teasing and suggestive hints in the end

Requested by the amazing @dreamstatednightmare

Morpheus - the sole provider of the Dreaming and all of its residents - was obviously a busy man. His attention constantly pulled in every direction from ensuring dreams and nightmares were doing their duties, to aiding whoever asked, and to keeping the Dreaming afloat and in perfect order. For the Dreaming was a cog in the cosmic wheel which was of utmost importance, its effects rippled out to all realms.

You understood this greatly, Morpheus had responsibilities that came first, and that never bothered you. In fact, because of such reasons, whenever you visited the Dreaming you created a game for yourself. There were many wondrous, unimaginable things to see and do in the Dreaming, but strangely you noted all the mundane things. Things you could easily see in the Waking, things such as the occasional house cat trotting around the palace.

Did Morpheus have an affinity for cats? Or did cats have an affinity for Dream of the Endless?

You supposed it didn’t matter.

When Morpheus had business to attend to, you would go ‘hunt’ for cats. You would stroll throughout the palace, and its grounds - sometimes even venturing into Fiddler’s Green - to find a cat. To your surprise, it was quite easy. In minutes, you would find yourself tucked under a tree, or on a bench, with a cat in your lap and possibly another walking around. You would sit for what seemed to be hours mindlessly petting it, listening to its calming purring, or coo at the furry stray. You would even tell stories to them, be it fictional or from your own life.

You enjoyed this little game of yours.

So, when you visited the Dreaming tonight, you found yourself in a portion of the palace's lustrous gardens - the rose garden. The rose bushes stretched tall and wide as a thick wall, forming an extravagant labyrinth to get lost in. Roses of all colors bloomed from a pure innocent white to a dark red dripping with a passion. Yet, you sat on the outer edges under a tree; the tree had iridescent green leaves and glass like flowers hidden in the foliage. The sunlight always shined above, sending prisms of splintering rainbows all over. But, despite such beauties, you were here for a simpler reason. You smiled as you spotted a shadow again up ahead in the rose bushes. A distinct shadow you came to know well - a feline shadow.

You gently called out, “Come on out, I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Pale green eyes - almost yellow in the sunlight - peered out from behind the leaves. Its eyes nearly blended into the mess of various greens.

You smiled kindly, extending out your hand towards it.

A reddish brown nose poked out.

Back in the palace, specifically in the royal library, Morpheus rose from a chair away from the long thin table. “If there is nothing else, Lucienne, I would like to take my leave for the day,” he said.

Lucienne closed her journal, which now had a completed checklist written inside, and looked up at her lord. “Everything has been accounted for and addressed, sire.”

“Good. I will be leaving, but if anything arises do call.”

“Of course, my lord.” She nodded and began tidying up all the documents scattered over the table top. With new dreams and nightmares being created, space for them was now needed. The Dreaming was under minor maintenance and readjustments.

Morpheus scanned over the documents and blueprints, feeling satisfied with the solutions. His eyes flickered to Lucienne as she piled up the papers. “And do rest, Lucienne, you deserve it.”

Lucienne blinked then smiled softly. “I will, thank you.”

Morphues nodded, then strolled out of the library. The second the door clicked behind him, his thoughts instantly went to you. Where could you have run off to this time? He wished he could offer more of his time to you. His heart ached, knowing you were alone. You swore it never bothered you. However, it bothered him. Immensely. Surely, the Dreaming would take care of you; you could find entertainment anywhere and never grow bored.

But.

But, he wanted to be there. He wanted to show you wonders. In the end, however, he could not divide his attention so easily.

He sighed to himself, walking out to the grounds of the palace. You said you wouldn’t stray too far.

“Oh, look how lovely you are.”

Morpheus’s footsteps faltered. He twisted around to locate your voice. Under one of the trees bathed in rainbows, there you were. You sat cross-legged on the soft patch of grass with your back pressed against the trunk of the tree.

He moved to call out to you, almost believing you were speaking to him, when a cat - a brown tabby cat - slowly walked towards you.

You cooed as the cat reached you and you began scratching behind her ears.

Morpheus oddly felt himself deflate.

The cat purred, leaning into your touch. Smiling, you whispered praises. You ran a finger over the dark stripes, softly tracing over the somewhat misshapen ‘M’ on her forehead. The cat closed her eyes, tilting her head back loving every second.

You chuckled. “Do you like that?”

At the sound of your laughter, such a sweet sound, a dark cloud began to form over the King of Dreams’ head.

You scratched the tabby’s cream colored chin, and your smile widened as her purring grew louder. The cat pushed her head into your hand, grateful for every ounce of affection you were giving. When her pale green eyes opened, she seemed as if she was smiling up at you. Her eyes twinkled. Then, without warning, she hopped into your lap, curling into a ball.

“God, you are adorable,” you whispered, giddily.

She rolled onto her back, peering up at you. You wiggled your fingers in front of her face and she meowed and batted at them. You laughed, loud and wholeheartedly.

Morpheus’s jaw clenched.

Why? Why did anger worm into his heart over such a small insignificant creature?

His eyes locked onto you. You peered down at the feline. Your fingers carefully caressed over her head and down her back. So delicate, so loving. A sickly green clouded his vision. He craved your attention after such a grueling day, and to see a cat be the prize of such affection? Jealousy and disgust filled him. How dare this creature tread on what was his?

He did not think twice.

He stepped forward.

His mortal figure withered away into a cloud of glimmering yellow sand. Each drop quietly scattered across the ground, like hushed bells. As the cloud shrunk, a black long hair cat strolled out. His gaze landed on you, or more accurately the stray in your lap. With his head held high, he walked over while his tail flickered side to side.

The tabby cat perked up her head, noticing Morphues first.

Morpheus, with his unnaturally bright blue eyes, locked eyes with the cat. Disgust and hatred written plainly in his eyes. The cat pinned her ears back and swiftly leapt out of your lap, sprinting off back into the rose bushes.

“Well, what got into her?” You asked, confused.

You glanced over to where the cat was looking earlier, before her grand escape, only to spot a new cat. The gorgeous all black cat had a regal air about him as he approached you. You shrugged off the other cat’s peculiar behavior. Smiling at the black cat, you stretched out your hand in a welcoming gesture. “Hello there, little one.”

The cat sniffed your hand only once before pushing his head into your hand. Your smile widened. He seemed to like you more than any other cat you met. The cat purred and instantly jumped into your lap.

You laughed. “Okay, make yourself at home.”

The cat looked up at you with such beautiful blue - and somehow familiar - eyes. You started scratching the top of his head, and he sunk down into your lap. His tail happily swished back and forth.

Morpheus could not deny how heavenly this all felt.

“You are truly a beautiful cat,” you hummed. “And so soft too.”

Your fingers carded through his fluffy, cotton candy like fur. You wanted to bury your face in his fur. Oh, it was so warm too, like a gentle hug, soothing and welcoming. Another sense of familiarity tickled in the back of your mind. The texture, to some extent, but the color reminded you of -

It clicked.

You huffed through your nose, amused. You continued to scratch behind his ears. He snuggled deeper into your lap, purring constantly and nonstop.

“I know it’s you, love,” you whispered. The cat jerked his head up, staring up at you with those endless oceanic eyes. You ran a finger from his nose over his forehead. You bent down kissing the top of his head, over the smoothed out fur. “So, now I am left wondering why you have taken the form of a cat? Care to explain, Morpheus.”

Morpheus stared, silently. Does he dare say the reasoning? Does he keep up the charade?

You scratched under his chin. He immediately closed his eyes, and began purring once again.

You snickered. “Is that why you are like this? To be scratched? To be pampered?”

Morpheus’s eyes shot open. He huffed, partially annoyed; be it at you for the accuracy of your questions or himself for acting this way, he did not know why.

“Or to be cooed at?” You teased. “My sweet, adorable Morpheus.”

Morpheus turned his head, holding it up high. Now, that was ridiculous.

“Oh come on, you came to me like this.” Your hand ran down his back through his midnight fur. “You clearly wanted this.”

Morpheus peered out of the corner of his eye to you.

A smile graced your lips. Brilliant and beautiful.

His heart skipped.

Maybe, this was enough. The charade was clearly over.

He leapt out of your lap. In mid air, a tornado of shadows and golden sand swirled tightly around Morpheus’s tiny feline figure. It grew bigger and wider in the air. In a span of a few seconds, black boots landed firmly on the ground. The sand wisped away twinkling like distant stars, and Morpheus stood above you back in his mortal form.

“Aw, did you have enough already?” You tossed him a cheeky smile.

Morpheus rolled his eyes as he tried to hide an amused smile. Despite your teasing, he could not help but smile when you smiled. Even if the reasoning was at his own expense.

“So?” You hummed.

Morpheus raised an eyebrow.

“Care you explain why you greeted me as a cat?”

Morpheus’s lips thinned. Apparently, anger was still heavy on his chest. Anger and embarrassment. He glanced away, avoiding your gaze. He looked to where the other cat scampered off, luckily she had not shown her face again. He was thankful for that.

You stared at him, silently dissecting him. Morpheus was always one to close himself off to negative, unsavory emotions. Yet, despite his efforts, you could read him fairly well. Your eyes followed his gaze towards the rose bushes, to the exact spot the tabby cat darted into.

“Was it the cat?” You asked, starting to pull at the thread.

Morpheus tensed. He slowly turned his attention back to you. His silence was your answer.

You snorted. “Morpheus, were you jealous of a cat?”

“No,” he quickly answered. Far too quickly, it only confirmed your suspicions.

You laughed. Standing up, you leaned in towards Morpheus. “You were jealous of a measly little cat.”

Morpheus huffed.

“Now, why would you be jealous? It is only a cat, Morpheus.”

“A cat which has garnered all of your affection.” He fired back.

You blinked then shook your head, still smiling. “It is a cat, it has not ‘garnered all of my affection’.”

Morpheus grumbled. “Then why shower it with any affection at all? Why not seek out my company instead?”

Your smile softened. Here is the true problem. You reached up with one hand and cupped his face. “Because, you are busy and I do not want to disturb you.”

He placed his hand on top of yours. “I know, but I wish you would. You do not have to be out here finding entertainment in strays.”

“But, I like it.”

He frowned.

“It is just a game, Morpheus. An innocent game of finding cats while I wait for you.” You stroked his cheek with your thumb. “It’s honestly relaxing and a bit fun, you should join me sometime.”

Morpheus frown deepened. That was possibly the last thing he wished to do.

“Oh, don’t be like that. A few cats cannot steal my heart, okay? And you know why?”

Morpheus stared. You silently prompted him to ask, to play along. He shook his head, but his lips slowly tugged back into a smile. “Why?”

“Because you already have it.”

He blinked. Your eyes shone with adoration, such beautiful eyes. He sighed, leaning into your touch. What a fool I am, he thought. His hand curled around your wrist, wishing to stay like this. “Apologies, love,” he muttered, “it seems I have let my emotions get the best of me.”

Not the first time, you jokingly thought. “It’s okay.”

He turned his head, kissing the inside of your wrist. “I think I may have a solution for our limited time apart.”

“Oh?”

“Would it be inappropriate to ask you to join me occasionally while I work? It could also provide an opportunity to show you all of the Dreaming.”

You smiled. “I would be honored.”

He returned the smile. “I hope you do not grow bored during such frivolous tasks.”

“I don’t think I will, and maybe I can help you. It could speed up the process.”

“Perhaps.”

With your free hand, you brushed back strands of his messy raven hair. “I just want you to know if you want my attention,” you leaned in pecking his lips, “just ask for it.”

Morpheus’s hands skimmed down your body, wrapping around you. “Is that so?” He whispered, playfully.

“It is.” You smirked, “You don’t have to go through crazy shenanigans like turning into a cat.”

He laughed once. “I suppose not.”

“But,” you began. Morpheus cocked his head curiously. Your arms fell over his shoulders as your fingers started to play with the edges of his hair. Your smirk grew, and your eyes twinkled with mischief. “But, you may not get any work done with me around.”

“Oh, really?” He leaned in, matching your smirk.

You hummed. “I may want all your attention to myself, I may become a distraction.”

Morpheus’s lips brushed over yours. “A welcoming distraction if ever.”

You chuckled. “How about we take this elsewhere? Maybe inside before another cat comes prancing in to ‘garner’ my affection.”

Morpheus had to suppress a groan. “I will not love this down, will I?”

“No, you will not. You were quite cute as a cat.” You kissed him - fleeting, but oh so loving. “But not as cute as you are now.”

He shook his head, but still smiled.

You took his hands, guiding him towards the palace. “If you want my affection, then let me show you how much you mean to me, my sweet king.”

Smiling, he tugged you back towards him, pressing you firmly up against him. His lips brushed over the shell of your ear. “Only if I get to return the favor, my love.”

You laughed as Morpheus quickly took the lead. He nearly rushed back inside, now knowing he will have your fullest attention - the thing he always craves.

[valenfangs]

Valenfangs is very happy to announce . . . VamPride!

transcript and prompts under the cut

We are inviting any fans of the Vampire Chronicles and its derivative works (books, show, movie, that other movie, play – and every colour in between) to have some fun with us in June as we celebrate pride!

Show your colours through a variety of mediums - fics, art, moodboards, playlists, headcanons, edits, cosplays, we want to see it all!

Fill as many prompts or as little as you like! You have three prompts per day, and you can use just one as inspiration or combine multiple prompts into one work

This is a month of celebration and we want to celebrate everything you do! Make sure to tag us @valenfangs so we and all our followers don’t miss your awesome contributions

We're here for you! If you have any questions, our ask box is open!

PROMPTS:

1 - San Francisco // gay bar // sunshine

2 - beach // ice cream // tough love

3 - drag queen/king // butterflies // asexual

4 - rose garden // Roaring 20s // threesome

5 - rule 63 // art museum // haircut

6 - Omegaverse // sunglasses // stuffed animals

7 - Renaissance // blood-red lipstick // crushed velvet

8 - Greek mythology // handwritten letters // grey hair

9 - glitter // lollipop // ghosts

10 - free day

11 - coffee and cigarettes // impact play // musical theatre

12 - butch/femme // bondage // leather

13 - rainstorm // dom/sub drop // Shakespeare

14 - pirate AU // worn-out sneakers // candlelight

15 - free day

16 - tattoos and piercings // fishnet // hair dye

17 - Old Hollywood // hoop earrings // Hawaiian shirt

18 - high school/college AU // pet play // pearls

19 - gloves // labyrinth/maze // love triangle

20 - free day

21 - apples and pears // stained glass windows // double penetration

22 - burger and fries // Coca Cola in a glass bottle // antique shop

23 - tiara // driving lessons // reality TV

24 - silk pajamas // acrylic nails // enemies to lovers

25 - costume party // black nail polish // waterfall

26 - pencil skirt // smoothie // blind date

27 - murder mystery // slumber party // high-heeled boots

28 - black cat/golden retriever // ballet // sex shop

29 - the zoo // Oscar Wilde // reading glasses

30 - pride parade // daddy/mommy kink // brat

[lynnuvo]

✧*̥˚ Tag-Along! *̥˚✧

Characters: Tomoko Aimi (OC), Homura Akemi, Madoka Kaname, Sayaka Miki, & Kyoko Sakura (Commissioned/Requested ♡ Thank you! I did my best with the provided information. I still have some things to learn about the Madoka Magica Universe, so it was an adventure to research while making this. I hope you like it!)

In the vast world of possibilities, many theories exist in attempts to explain how life worked. Was reincarnation real? Was there really a concept of Heaven and Hell? Was there only one version of the universe, or did a multitude of timelines exist?

In the world of Madoka Magica, it happened to be that timelines were how the universe could sort varying actions and circumstances that could be brought up at any time at any place.

It also happened that in just about every timeline, Tomoko Aimi drowned to death.

About 13 to 14 years of age, Tomoko Aimi was a girl who some wouldn't have expected to make it far in life--not because of potential but rather the situation she was in. After all, it wasn't easy for orphans to gain an upper hand over other children. Merely surviving was a struggle, for she lived alone in a small apartment complex. Job searching came out fruitless; not many companies or even family-owned shops were willing to consider such a young candidate for employment. Money was, therefore, tight, and it got even tighter as time passed. To avoid authorities, Tomoko's state of living remained under wraps, but like money, support was little.

Despite these struggles, the girl was a child at heart. Laughter rang in the classroom in her reaction to a classmate's joke. Her smile brightened her teacher's heart whenever she was praised for a correct answer. Whenever she fell for a prank (and believe it or not, she always did), she chased her companions around and plotted revenge (sometimes they failed; sometimes they didn't). When classes weren't in session, she could be seen in the fields with those same companions skipping rope, blowing bubbles, or playing imaginary games. Although home was little to smile over, it was these moments with people she cherished that made life worth living.

Most notably, two people who come to mind when Tomoko thought about who she cherished met her in the most unexpected of ways. It all began when Tomoko stumbled upon the strangest cat she had ever seen on a shortcut to her favorite lunch spot.

The cat of white and pink eyes stared at her as she made her way closer. When the distance closed in, Tomoko bent down on her knees with eyes of wonderment. "Woah, you look cute. I want to take you home!"

With a blink, the cat ran off.

"Hey, wait!" Tomoko tightened her school bag on her shoulder and chased after the creature. "Hold on! I'm not that scary, right?!"

In pursuit of the animal, she watched as the alley she was just in transformed into a strange labyrinth. She stopped in her tracks once her entire environment seemed to expand tenfold. Her heart beat faster as a tall, dark lady built like a skeleton rose from the ground while music played out of nowhere.

The creature stopped running, blinked at her again, and leaped at her. Tomoko let out a small shriek and allowed her reflexes to catch the cat, who remained passive. When a fuzzy ball with legs popped out of thin air not so far ahead of them, the girl stepped back. "What did you get us into...? What in the world is THIS?!"

"STAY RIGHT THERE!"

Tomoko's eyes darted to the shout of the feminine voice to find its owner flying the air, scoping at the towering, skeleton-like lady with a musket. A loud BANG! echoed in the air. Tomoko flinched and recovered herself to see another girl flying her way.

This one was adorned in a dress of pink and white, with matching messy pigtails. She rested a hand on Tomoko's shoulder. "Don't be afraid. We've got this."

A tear ran down Tomoko's eyes. "I am so scared right now..."

WHOOSH! Another girl, this one with red glasses and a black and purple outfit, appeared to Tomoko's other side. She offered a small nod and a smile. "Trust us. Mami-san and Kaname-san won't let anything bad happen to us."

And so, Tomoko watched in awe as the two girls left to join their other companion in a battle that Tomoko thought she could only see in movies. The defeat of the skeleton-lady came with a crash. The world around her wobbled away to reveal the alley again, but the three girls remained.

The tallest pushed her princess curls out of her face and picked a small item up to pocket it away. She strode over to Tomoko and gave the creature still in her arms a stink eye. It jumped away and ran to the pink-themed girl, who yelped with joy. The tall girl rested a hand on her chest. "I apologize for the scene you just witnessed. I'm guessing Kyubey wants you, though, if you haven't fallen under hypnosis by the witch and could see it and us."

"Witch?"

"Are you hungry? I can explain over lunch. My name's Mami Tomoe."

"Lunch?! I'm so hungry, yes please!" The pink-haired girl exclaimed with a jump. "I'm Madoka Kaname, pleasure to meet you!"

The black-haired girl stepped forward, hands clasped in front of her. "I'm Ho--"

Tomoko gasped. "Wait. I've seen you before in the halls, I think. At school. Do you go to Mitakihara Middle School?"

"I do. We all do, actually," the black-haired girl replied with a blush. "I'm Homura Akemi. We fight witches of pain and despair, though I'm much newer at it."

"Woah, magical girls?!" Tomoko leaned forward. "I wanna hear me!"

Mami chuckled. "Then, let's hurry. We were just headed to this cafe I found last week. I hope we'll like it."

Over a hearty meal, Mami--the oldest of the group--shared the purpose and history of Magical Girls while emphasizing the risk they had to take in their everyday lives in order to keep the universe safe. It was quite a shock to hear that such otherworldly beings blended into normal civilians like her. Mami also shared that the cat (who lounged on the table) Tomoko caught is an Incubator named Kyubey. It granted Mami and Madoka their wishes, and Mami joked it was only a matter of time before Homura and Tomoko made their wishes as well.

After cleaning up, the four left the cafe and stopped walking at an intersection before parting ways. Mami reached her hand out to Tomoko. "If you'd like, you could come with us to fight witches before making your decision. It is quite literally life or death, so it's best you be informed of what you're getting into."

Madoka rushed over and took ahold of Tomoko's hands with a smile. "That would be awesome! We'll keep you safe, I promise."

Pink dusting her cheeks, Tomoko smiled back. "Sure!"

And so, for the following month, the four journeyed through a multitude of labyrinths whenever Tomoko had time. Mami, as the unspoken leader of the group, was always at the front of these fights, so Homura and Madoka spent much of their time closer to Tomoko in the labyrinths protecting her while battling. As a newcomer, the girl looked up to them so much. Even outside of Magical Girl activities, Tomoko spent some time with her new friends, though mostly the two who were in her grade level. She followed them around in school and asked them to play with her whenever something excited showed up. Once, she convinced Madoka and Homura to join a merry-go-round with her. It was easy for an outsider to tell who had the most childlike joy in the trio.

Tomoko, unlike two others in the quad, didn't have an obligation to go witch hunting since she hadn't contracted yet. Despite not having a family waiting for her at home, she wasn't quite ready to commit all of her time to the life of a Magical Girl. She still needed to find food to bring home, after all. It was already enough she was hoping someone would bring up eating out after every battle.

"Can I please have this one? I'll pay you back again as soon as I get the money!" Tomoko pleaded while pointing to a bowl of ramen at the current restaurant's menu. "I already paid you back for the ice cream I ate last time, remember?"

"Tomoko-chan, must you always be indebted to me?" Homura chuckled before she ordered the desired meal.

When they returned to the table where the other two sat, Mami smiled. "Did Homura get you something again? She's kind, but it's not good to take advantage of your friends."

Tomoko's cheeks exploded in red. "I'm not! I swear! I paid her back for everything eventually. I normally don't have money on me when we go on these trips. They come up so suddenly..."

Madoka laughed. "You'll definitely benefit from a wallet, then."

"I think keeping her money on her would enable her to spend much more than she already is, don't you think?" Mami winked.

Tomoko pouted. "Hey!"

Other than searching for food, Tomoko spent time with her other companions at school. She enjoyed playing with them any chance she got, which was usually more than once a week. They distracted her from the struggles of an orphan and made her feel less alone in the wide world. With every laugh, she imagined growing up and going on more adult hangouts with these people. Although she didn't have a biological family to chase her until she was caught for an onslaught of tickles, she felt she had finally had some sort of found-family.

So why was it that Tomoko's breath was extinguished underwater?

One moment, she was playing Hide-and-Seek while drinking juice with her friends. And the next, the instinct to live shot her awake as her feet and arms flailed for some sort of surface to hold onto or stand on. She couldn't even open her eyes without water flushing in, blocking her vision.

Where was she? Where were her friends? Why weren't they saving her? These questions, unfortunately, would go unanswered. With no way to get to safety, Tomoko succumbed to the pitch black.

Or at least, that was until white light spread from the center of her "vision." A sparkly path of purple immediately grew from the center and winded its way towards Tomoko until it was out of her vision. Arms emerged from the center of the bright light until the body of a girl in a three-layered, white and pink frilly dress came into full view. The dress was unlike any she'd ever seen: longer than the girl's own feet Pink hair as long and shiny as that of a princess and sleeves as wavy as a summer breeze, she opened her arms in one graceful motion.

"Tomoko-chan," she spoke in a crisp voice and a smile. "I've come to save you."

Madoka....

She watched as Madoka took her hand, a strange view since Tomoko couldn't see the rest of her body or even control the part visible. Madoka rested one of her own hands on her chest. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there when you died. So much has happened since you left us, but I'm here now. A friend of mine is here to explain everything. Please, if I give you life, will you watch over Homura for me?"

Was that even a question?

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"Hey? Hello! HELLO!"

Gasping for breath, Tomoko slowly opened her eyes to see the face of a girl with short blue hair so close to her that their noses almost touched. Eyes widening, the girl backed away to reveal her royal heroine-like outfit, with the top and skirt of her strapless button-down top the color of a deep ocean while the torso was donned in white.

Her hands rested on her hips as she wore a slight frown. "Hey, are you okay? Madoka said you might be a bit disoriented. Do you remember her?"

"Madoka-san..." Tomoko pushed her lethargic body up as much as she could, though her hands almost slipped on the sleek colorful floor. The mysterious girl rushed over to help her sit up. Tomoko held her hand weakly and looked around at the wide expanse of her location--a building that was void of even objects. "I do. I remember drowning--I think--Madoka-san came to save me. She looked kind of different--like a princess."

"Do you remember what happened to you and Madoka before you died?"

"Um. She wasn't there right before I died, but I remember her. Her, Homura-san, and Mami-san, actually. We were going on adventures fighting witches, except Homura-san and I didn't make our wishes yet. I needed to see if I was ready for that life. I guess I died before I could even think of a wish though...

The girl blinked before letting out a sigh. "So you do remember. Thank goodness." She suddenly stood upright, smiled, and placed a hand on her chest. "The name's Sayaka Miki. What's yours?"

"Tomoko...Tomoko Aimi."

"Well then, let's stay here for a bit while you recover, Tomoko-chan." Sayaka sat down beside her, knees to her chest and arms spread behind her. "Let's see....where should I begin...? I guess I can start with Madoka. This is going to be a lot."

Sayaka's long explanation began with sharing that Madoka was able to revive Tomoko through the Law of Cycles, a concept created by Madoka's wish to erase witches before they are born. Sayaka herself was also saved by Madoka after her death as a witch. Since Tomoko hadn't gotten the chance to make her decision, Madoka chose to offer grace: Tomoko could become a Magical Girl in another timeline in exchange for life.

"Are you not coming with me, Miki-san?" Tomoko questioned when Sayaka told her to get up in preparation for the outside world.

The girl shook her head with a smile. "I've had my fill of fighting witches. It's your turn, now."

Although hesitant to leave without her, Tomoko nodded, turned around, and walked towards the door. Before she could reach for the knob, the building around her wobbled away until she was left in a familiar alley--the same alley she had first met Madoka, Homura, and Mami in. Speaking of the three, where were they? Did they even exist in this timeline? In search of answers, Tomoko sprinted towards Mami's apartment.

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"Madoka...? Who is that?"

Tomoko gaped. "You don't remember Madoka-san? Our friend?"

Mami tilted her head. "No...? Is this someone we've met before?"

"Yes! We've fought with her and--!"

Homura, who had been silent since Tomoko's arrival into the apartment (other than a simple greeting), rested a hand on her shoulder while maintaining eye contact with Mami. "Tomoko, I think you're feeling unwell. Your nightmares might be acting up."

"Huh? I didn't--!"

Homura squeezed her shoulder.

Tomoko pursed her lips. "Okay. Maybe I have...; I've been sleeping late recently."

Mami set her cup of black tea down with a hearty chuckle. "You worried me there for a moment! I couldn't imagine forgetting a fellow Magical Girl, nonetheless one who is our friend." She glanced at the clock in her room. "Since you have been sleeping late, it's best you head home now for bed. I wouldn't want to worsen your sleep quality."

Homura stood. "I'll take her home. I don't trust her to get there safely alone."

"Hey!"

Mami laughed and waved the two farewell. Once she shut the door behind them, they walked side by side down the apartment stairs and began in the direction of Tomoko's apartment in silence. Awkward was not something Tomoko was good at dealing with, and neither was the quiet. She peeked at this timeline's Homura. It was odd to see her friend without glasses, and it was even more so that Homura's aura gave off a much colder impression than her previously shy, ditzy self. Her free-flowing long, black hair made her appear much more mature than her old braids did. While Tomoko felt it suited how she saw Homura, actually seeing it in person just didn't feel right.

Homura caught her gaze. "How do you remember Madoka?"

"Huh. Oh. Um--I just do."

"No one here remembers her. She doesn't exist."

"What? That's not possible..."

"Tell me." Homura stepped closer to her. "Do you recall a god-like Madoka? When was the last time you've seen her?"

"I-uh-I...." She wasn't sure if the truth was meant to be a secret, but Homura's eyes would have forced it out of her anyway. Tomoko bit her lip and nodded. "I just saw her. I'm not sure how, though. I just appeared somewhere around here. Did I still exist before I came? The me right now, I mean."

"I see. Yes, you did. Me, you, and Mami fight Wraiths, what grief embodies into."

"Wraiths? What happened to witches?"

"They don't exist here. You're not supposed to remember that." Homura took out a circle shield. "According to your story, we were friends in your timeline. We are friends in this timeline as well. We should act as such. And as a friend, I request you give me any possible lead that will bring me to Madoka."

"I--sure! Yes! Of course!" Tomoko exclaimed, lifting her arms to her chest. "I actually don't really know much. All that really happened was that I met this blue-haired girl named Sayaka.....Sayaka something. I think her name was Sayaka Miki, but I can't remember."

"Hm." Homura started towards Tomoko's apartment again. "She's no longer with us. No matter. I will drop you off at home and meet you here everyday before school starts. I will message you about anything else. I ask you to keep Madoka a secret from the others."

"Got it!"

Although nervous at first, the two began hunting Wraiths together with Mami--sometimes without her if Homura wished or they stumbled upon one alone. It was a surreal experience getting used to Homura's abilities, especially her onslaught of armory. Even her strategies gave her spine chills. They were much more calculated and daring. Most of the time, Homura was the one aiming for the Wraiths while Tomoko fought off the minions. It took a while to get used to Tomoko's own abilities. The first couple battles, Homura excused themselves from Mami due to illness so Tomoko could practice. According to the purple-haired companion, it would be suspicious if Tomoko suddenly lost her skills. Once she gained them back, however, she felt so powerful and weightless. It was no wonder Magical Girls had a type of confidence normal civilians didn't.

One day, after fighting a witch, Homura treated Tomoko to ice cream. Holding her cone, she sat beside Homura on a bench and licked her sweet treat. "Homura-san, did you find any leads on Madoka-san?"

The girl furrowed her brows. "No."

"Oh." Silence ensued for a moment as Tomoko continued licking her ice cream. "What did you wish for to become a Magical Girl?"

"I...I wished to redo my first meeting with Madoka with the power necessary to protect her."

"Really? What happened to Madoka-san for you to wish for such a thing?"

Homura stared up at the night sky. "In another timeline, she saved the world from an incredibly strong witch named Walpurgisnacht. I couldn't bear the thought of my dear friend leaving me in such a sacrifice. But she is too selfless for her own good. No matter where I went, no matter what I did, she refused to live without interfering with the way Kyubey's world worked. Finally, she made a wish that saved Magical Girls from becoming witches at the cost of her own existence. I need to find her again."

Homura looked at Tomoko and pulled out her shield. "I'm sorry, Tomoko-chan. I need to leave."'

"Where are you going?"

"To another timeline."

Tomoko's eyes widened. "Wait, you're not leaving me here, are you?!"

The gears in the shield whirred alive. Homura's eyes darted away. "I'm sorry."

"WAIT! DON'T JUST--!"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

As if fate played some silly game, Tomoko awoke as a familiar standing by Homura. She could barely talk, only making some noises. She wasn't sure what witch she was a familiar of, but what was unusual was that she was the only creature there.

"Are you really here again?" Homura muttered, staring at her.

"AODAOIDAOIDWDIJIA?!"

"I told you last time I'll end you at your witch. Why must you keep trailing after me?"

Huh? What did that mean? She didn't recall being associated with a witch or even receiving a disapproval to follow Homura. If anything, Homura requested it. Could it be that Tomoko's subconscious awoke in another version of her? It made sense, the longer her mind dwelled on it. In the previous timeline, she didn't remember fighting with Homura and Mami as a trio of Magical Girls. That Tomoko existed before this Tomoko took over. It could very well be the same case in this universe.

Homura pulled out a gun from her skirt and pointed it at Tomoko. "Thank you for your company, but I can't risk explaining my mercy towards you to other Magical Girls. It will give them ideas. It's already concerning that Kyoko almost caught us."

"AIDJWID?!"

BANG!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Oh great. Another life as a familiar. At least she was a more cute, humanoid looking one!

Tomoko lifted her head from the puddle she was staring at. Ahead of her was the end of the dark alley she had appeared in. There was no way she could travel to Mami's apartment in this state; her head would be blown off again. Without a clue for where to go, the girl--er, familiar--wandered the streets. The way normal civilians ignored her presence sent a sinking feeling in her gut. Her heart panged watching other children blow bubbles without her.

As she wandered closer to an arcade, the environment around her wobbled alive. Startled, Tomoko spun around to watch as familiars unlike her came alive. A huge cotton-ball creature with dolls as eyes erupted from the ground with a howl.

What do I do?! I can't fight that thing as this!

"Perfect! I was just in the area!"

Out of nowhere, a girl with messy red hair flew from the right and launched straight into the monster. Tomoko stood, mouth agape, as the girl jumped away while red liquid gushed out of the creature, who roared in protest. Its familiars charged towards her, but her spear broke apart into bars chained together. She flung the bars around, knocking the familiars into oblivion. With one ferocious attack after another, it didn't take long for the labyrinth to wobble away.

The girl strode towards a grief seed, picked it up, and held it against her soul gem. "Hehe, yes. Just what I needed."

Tomoko stared at her back. She wasn't sure how the girl didn't spot her. Maybe she was invisible? Her case was unique, after all. Still, it was best to not be seen. Thankfully, the color scheme of her being allowed her to blend into the alley behind the arcade well. She didn't have much to do and not much caught her attention outside of what just happened, so Tomoko followed the mysterious girl as she walked away. The girl walked into a supermarket, bought nothing, entered a bookstore, bought nothing, ran across a park, entered a bakery, and sat down. Tomoko slid into the booth chair opposite of her and watched as the girl read the menu.

Once she ordered a dish loaded with toppings, she fanned her face with the menu and looked straight ahead. "Why are you following me?"

So she could see her?! Tomoko's figure trembled in confusion. "AIDOADADODJA!"

"Yeah, I have no idea what you just said. It's weird you aren't attacking me. And you don't look like that witch's familiars, either." The girl pointed her menu at Tomoko. "Did somebody send you?"

"AOIJA!"

"Uh. Okay...; I have no clue what that means either." She tossed the menu to Tomoko. "I'm too starved to think too much right now."

Tomoko stared at the menu, but her thoughts turned elsewhere. How could witches exist here and not the other timeline if Madoka had rid of them? Was there something in the Law of Cycles she had misinterpreted or missed altogether? Or could it be that witches who already existed before Madoka made her wish were able to live?

A piping hot batch of pancakes loaded with syrup, whipped cream, parsley (who in the world orders pancakes with parsley, especially in a bakery?) arrived with five huge strawberries hugged by small blueberries.

Pondering about the logic of the universe could wait another time!

She watched in absolute envy as the girl started eating the delicious meal. If only she was in that position....

The girl peeped up at Tomoko and swallowed. "You can't actually eat, can you?"

"AADWDIJ?"

She pushed the plate towards Tomoko. "Try it."

With ease, Tomoko picked up a spoon and dined away. The girl glanced around, but no one seemed to care. In fact, it didn't look like any of them could spot a floating spoon. After another bite, Tomoko pouted as the plate was taken from her.

"Okay. That's enough for you. I don't know what kind of familiar you are, but if you can eat and understand me, that's weird enough. Weird in a cool way." The girl stabbed a pancake and grinned. "The name's Kyoko Sakura. What's yours?"

"ASIDJW ADIAWDW."

"Er....okay.....; you know what? We can head over to my place after this so you can get a pen. You're not going to stab me in the back later, are you?"

Tomoko shook her head violently.

"Hah. That's sick! And you can see me fighting the witch."

Tomoko nodded.

"You got anywhere to be?"

Tomoko shook her head again.

"Nice, nice." Kyoko's eyes brightened. "Let's go fight more witches! I need to collect more grief seeds to keep them on hand. Actually, I don't know if you can fight, but I can show you how cool I am while fighting. And if I get hurt, I guess you can find some other Magical Girl to come get me, right?"

Tomoko nodded eagerly.

"A familiar on a Magical Girl's side, wow. I'm totally blaming myself for trusting you if you backstab me. Here, let me cut you a piece of this pancake." She turned around. "Excuse me, miss! Can I have a small plate? I like to portion out my bites."

Tomoko watched as Kyoko cut a slice of her pancake and offered a couple berries. At last, the familiar let out a sigh that somehow went inaudible. That was probably something she'd have to understand about familiars. She'd have to understand so many new things, actually. And she'll definitely have to find Homura eventually, though she guessed the black-haired friend would eventually appear since she mentioned a Kyoko previously.

All of that can be accomplished another time, however. For now, she'd enjoy a sweet treat with someone who could possibly become her new friend.

[himalia-aesthetics]

Whimsical Gothic Aesthetic

The Whimsigoth aesthetic isn’t quite goth or quite bohemian, but blends together aspects of each. This aesthetic was conjured out of the 70s, 80s, and 90s with witchy influences showcased in a plethora of movies and television shows. Free spirited individuals with interests in astrology or witchcraft may feel called to this aesthetic. 

Visuals:

Stained Glass 

The Night Sky

Well Worn Rugs 

Brass/Gold Candle holders 

Velvet 

The Moon

Black Cats

Crystals 

Vining Plants 

The Sun

Candles

Antique Rings 

Cozy Fireplaces

The Stars

Key Colors:

Black

Emerald Green

Gold

Deep Blue

Burnt Orange

Silver

Ruby Red

Purple

Bronze

Dark Teal

Yellow

Clothing:

Tops:

Corsets 

Tank Tops 

Flowing Long Sleeves

Blouses

Mesh Tops (Long/Short Sleeves) 

Velvet Tops (Long/Short Sleeves)

Lace/Lace Trimmed Tops (Long/Short Sleeves)

Bottoms:

Skirts 

Trousers 

Jeans 

Corduroy (Trousers/Skirts)

One Pieces:

Dresses

Jumpsuits 

Bodysuits 

Overalls

Outerwear:

Cardigans 

Leather jackets 

Fur Trimmed Coats

Shawls

Shoes:

Doc Marten Boots

Platform Boots

High Heel Boots

Doc Marten Loafers

Platform sandals 

Accessories:

Layered Necklaces 

Metal Belts 

Vintage/Antique Rings

Bracelets 

Dangle Earrings 

Beauty:

Dark Lipstick 

Eyeliner 

Mascara

Media/Music:

Movies:

The Craft 

Practical Magic

Coraline 

Halloweentown

Labyrinth

Alice in Wonderland 

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 

The Corpse BrideW

Edward Scissorhands 

Hocus Pocus 

Shows:

Charmed

Sabrina the Teenage Witch 

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Twin Peaks 

The Owl House

The Vampire Diaries

Playlists:

Whimsigothic by nataile

Whimsigothic by buffn

90s Ethereal Whimsigothic by Teleglam Sam 

90s Witch by linnett

YouTube:

Let’s Explore the Whimsigothic Aesthetic Origins, Breakdown, Outfits, Analysis by beepworld

Styling Whimsigoth Outfits with me | Talking About Thrifting by Amber Triana 

Is Whisigoth the 90s Witchy Bohemian Reborn by Teresa’s Chaotic Corner

Style Analysis: FairyGrunge and Whimsigoth by Dion the Taurus 

Authors:

Holly Black 

Kate Pentecost

Emily X.R. Pan

Adalyn Grace

Hobbies/Activities:

Studying Astrology 

Reading 

Painting 

Collecting Crystals 

Tarot Reading 

Thrift Shopping

Aromatherapy 

Gardening 

Listening to Music

Spellwork 

Related Aesthetics:

Bohemian 

Fairycore

Renaissance 

Witchcore 

Gothic 

Cottagecore

[bizarrebazaar13]

inspired by this post, I designed my own neathy fears, based off of the destinies (the original ones, not the Irem ones)! under a cut for length and spoilers. there’s 14 of them, each with 3 examples of what falls under that category, so strap in. everything except the last one is a destiny.

The Authority. Unbreakable hold on the past, present, and future.

The Judgements

The Empress

The Bazaar

The Gleam. Light is law, and light changes when it moves through glass.

Parabola

The Dawn Machine

The Royal Bethlehem

The Memory. Something fundamentally changed, in your memories and in the present.

The King With a Hundred Hearts

Shapeling Arts

The Cave of the Nadir

The Road. Knowledge, power, and the terrible things done to gain both.

Mr Cards

The Marvellous

The sacrifice of Candles

The Passion. Love as horror, a curse, a driver of disaster.

The Lady in Lilac

Lacre

Light Fingers

The Gloom. What hides in the darkness?

The Unterzee

The Forgotten Quarter

Flute Street

The Appetite. A hunger left unsatisfied.

Seekers of the name

The Vake

Heart’s Desire

The Oath. A promise made, not easily broken.

Mr Wines

Infernal contracts

The sale of cities

The Instrument. You are a tool of violence and war.

Knife and Candle

Jack of Smiles

Hearts’ Game

The Curator. Everything must be watched, studied, and preserved, eternally.

The Labyrinth of Tigers

The Masters’ hoards

Mr Slowcake

The Backstage. Every action has a butterfly effect, infinite consequences branching out as far as you can imagine.

The Great Game

The Moonlit Chessboard

Cats and Fingerkings

The Revelation. Knowledge you were never meant to comprehend.

The Iron Republic

The Correspondence

Artisan of the Red Science

The Torment. Endless pain and regret.

Cline

The Tomb-Colonies

The Cantigaster

The Reckoning. It will not be postponed indefinitely.

The Liberation of Night

Nemesis

Revolutionaries

[suspiria76]

RED CATS IN A GLASS LABYRINTH also known as EYEBALL

Italy/Spain

1975

Directed by Umberto Lenzi

[unbornwhiskeyy]

this is my favorite song on the record, and idk if i can write better lyrics than the ones i wrote for it:

then the sunlight frayed the maiden patch on your back our clothes smell like stale cigarettes and bong glass we'll never be able to find our way back it's like someone broke the woods and glued them back together wrong laid out in fractured patterns like a megadeth song we are lab rats in a labyrinth landmines in a landfill we figured out the ending about twenty minutes in every time we resisted it was all part of the plan the sound of sawdust in the engine i had a dream where you're not around the cat turned red and the house burned down picture was off-sync with the sound nothing awaits us in the ground years after the blackout we wake up by ourselves our shadows move away til they belong to something else weightless and shapeless as the self when the tv static started to reverse from the flames we realized we were acting and the whole world was a stage broadcast with a ten-second delay and now we're only flashbacks in the sequel to the dream floating in the reeds, on sale at spirit halloween we gleam like the camera lens in the trees the trees, they yawn forever on they’re everywhere and causing pointless introspection neverending like a drone the world, it ripples from the impact of the concussion if there’s a heaven it’s located in hell love is a story i keep telling myself

[obscure-song-tournament]

ROUND TWO !!!!

A

Keep Away - Isane Driver VS. Pulp Friction - Fool Heavy

Scatterbrain - Casual Tees VS. Sad Hit Song- V is for Villians

Patches - Jawbreaker Reunion VS. Animal Rites - John Congleton & The Nighty Nites

New Dance - DEERPEOPLE VS. Maple Leaf Etc - Maxshh

B

Mama - Eudora June VS. The Helper - Giannah Noelle

Victim of a Siren - Seraph Siege VS. There's a Darkness (but There's also a Light) - The Wild VS. Ray - Dylans

Alive - GON VS. You are Loved - David Lamotte TIE

Where U Goin? - Half in the Bag VS. For Me - Dearlie

C

The Hidden Word - Noe Venable VS. Echo in the Hills - Carrie Elkin VS. YOUR GALAXY - ROZLYN PELL

Juliet and Juliet -Kactus Kid VS. Low Rent Truman Show - Marc with a C

The Danger - Patricia Wallinga VS. Call Me Captain - Emrys Layne (@callmecapt) VS. Deep Blue - Grapefruit

D

PIANO GAMES - Hazma Notes VS. Worst in the World - Uncle Outrage

Cheese (original mix) -Cheese VS. Hokutoshichisei no Ichiya- Akiko lkuina

There'll be Someone at My Funeral Who Doesn’t Want to Be There - Sammy J VS. The Crayon Song - Class Of 3000

TECVM CIRCVMAMBVLARE NOLO - John Linnel VS. Imagination - Niel innes VS. Me and Nikolai - Pale Young Gentlemen

E

Eat Your Heart Out, Sigmund Freud - Mollie Maxwell VS. Don't Want You -Carpark

Runaways - Big Tree VS. 10,000 Days - OK Glass

Hurricane - My Cat Umi VS. Rotten - Missouri Surf Club

Born to it - Freefonix VS. last week/month/year - rain

F

Pointillize - Raccoon Fink VS. execute - ninty

Better Red Than Dead - KELChip VS. Ego -Powderpaint

... - subeteanatanoseidesu VS. Nighttime (I fall asleep) - Sam X

GOTH BITCH DUB - 621 gecs VS. To.Get.Her - Nixis

G

Dusk and Dawn - Das Fi VS. Between You and Me - Clementine Werchola

Monmon Fanmoran - Mochitsune VS. Can Graze the Roof Bring you Back to Childhood? - Anomaly Vector TIE

Memories - Jens East (Ft. Lotta Rasva) VS. Moongrains with Lyrics feat. Gumi A - Anonaly Vector VS. Ode to Janey Lou- FOE

The Dreaming- Marquis of Vaudevill VS. Best Friend - Taitoki

H

Rusalka and The Shepherd Girl - The Forgetmenauts VS. Four Tall Trees - Leslie Fish

Captain Ward - Tempest VS. The Trials Of Oscar Wilde - Alan John

Winter's Tooth - Alexander James Adam VS. He of Sidhe - Alexander James Adam

Labyrinth - Madeline S VS. The Phoenix - Julia Ecklar

I

Liar and the Hound - Beneath Eden VS. Bodysuit -FlooringCo

Pause Button - Particle Devotion VS. On a Walk - Fort Womb VS. Death is a Girl - Skippocalyptic

52 Pickup - Z. VS. 山谷澗 - Mysterain小雨樂隊 VS. Pub Money - Bag of Cans

J

Never be Famous - Hussalonia VS. 613 - FC the kid VS. Lhasa - Shapaley

Collide - Harold J VS. We Made it - JAMIEvx VS. 412 (coffin built for two) - Mollie Maxwell

Unretractable Fact - Second Person VS. SCARY* - EXIT ONLY

Preserve - PETROLEUM! GENDERLOSS VS. No Proposals - Physical Plant

K

Maneater- Blue Eyed Blondes VS. la somnambule - La Femme Pendu

Center Stage - Howard Martin VS. Gears of the Atom Man - Angels of Liberty TIE

Wake Up Girl - Skeeter Truck VS. Dark Rip - Teen Girl Scientist Monthly

Trust Me - Time Crash VS. Not Yet - Leo and the Little Things

L

Grace - Raelle VS. Animal- Xisco Feijoó

Hyperphantasia - Fearful Earful VS. Tonight Eternity Alone - Rene Clause

Cardigan Sweater - Jasmine Kennedy VS. Milá má - Nahore VS. Side A -Alohaha

The Binding Of isaac - Schmekel VS. Slip! - Bright Orange

M

Boy who Blocked the Sun - Demi the Daredevil VS. Rainy Day Georgia - Jayne Trimble VS. Burn it Down with Math - Deuce of Gears

Haircut Song - Shannon Moser VS. Reunion - Brent Spiner & Maude Maggart

Small Parts of Something Much Larger - Suns VS. Sunshine and Lollipops 2020 - Sad Snack

Say What You Want - Growth Spurt VS. Mirëmëngies - Edona Vatoc

N

Have You Ever Seen a Duck, Like, in Real Life? - Lisa the Beauty Queen VS. Housekeeper- Faun Fables

Caroline - Espers VS. Tales of the Phantom Ship - Nathan Landis Funk

Lotus eaters - Jessica Law VS. Raising the Dead! - Jessica Law VS. Autism Murder Memorial - Fit to Work

Blow Up the Moon - Feel Spectres VS. All For Me Grog! - Spud Bugs

O

Reclaim - Porch Cat VS. Orpheus on Ice - The Small Calamities VS. Violin Concerto in the Key of Crippling Regret - The Small Calamities

Homme Offer Knee - Ben Below VS. Hold My Heart - The Dune Sea

Each Time She Calls - Jessie Gosling VS. flexible guy - clown residue

Howard - Demo- Mother Aiden VS. Blooming Strangely - Ginger & Pear

P

恐竜あげみざわ★ - Kyouruu Friends VS. 星の旅人- Sayaka Senbong & Yumiri Hanamori

The End of the World - Fred Deakin VS. 運命は※ Love You - チームDEKAI

Ultimate Performance of Abandoned Magic Boxes ~ Racks of Junk - KR. Palto47 VS. 薔薇は美しく散る x 輪舞 revolution - okurigi66

297回の試行 - Image44 VS. They'll Make a Monster Out of You - Freefonix

[thelittlestspider]

i'm posting this here because i like how it came out.

Foolish Games

At the beginning of the week, they'd made plans to go on their usual date: shopping for antiques. Then the farmer's market for lunch after. Lulling Peter into a false sense of security for Matt's shenanigans.

Because that was the thing about Matt: people thought he was a somber guy who never smiled, or cracked jokes. But Peter got to see the other side of him, the one that laughed at his dumb jokes, who smiled freely with him. He also liked to play games with Peter.

Most of the time Peter loved playing games with Matt. A lot of times they ended with Peter chasing Matt in a game of city-wide hide and seek that ended in sex. Other times Matt extorted him for the benefit of someone else. Most of the time that person being Foggy.

This is one of those rare times Peter wished they were normal.

They'd heard of a new antique shop that opened up a few weeks ago, down in the basement of an old building.

The entrance was a stairway leading from the sidewalk down to the shop. It reminded him a little of the Coffee Bean. Except it was more gothic than seventies retro. It was also bigger than he'd initially thought.

He lost Matt in like five minutes.

Normally, he would search for his wayward partner, but he figured Matt would find him when he was ready. Meanwhile, he'd wander the stacks and enjoy himself.

He found some old CDs. A set of mermaid themed salt and pepper shakers for Matt. A shirt of a grim reaper in flames that said, “Stop building ugly condos." A rubix cube. And a small, strange looking cat figurine with bulging eyes made out of crystal for MJ and Felicia.

Peter bundled his finds in the t-shirt, making his way through the labyrinth to the register when he heard:

“Peter,” whispered Matt from somewhere up above. Peter looked up to see Matt crouched on top of a bookcase, housing a collection of dolls and figurines.

Matt held a small clown doll in his hands. It had a porcelain face with bright pink eyeshadow, rouged cheeks, and smiling red lips. Its jester hat and clown suit were both made of red satin. A combination of the clown’s mischievous expression and red outfit reminded him of Matt. Peter smiled.

“I see you found a friend there.” Peter pointed at the clown. “He even looks like you.”

“Are you mad at me?” asked Matt. “First you don't look for me, then you insult me and my clown…”

“Matty, the whole reason we came here was to look at stuff, and I can't look at stuff if I'm looking for you. Now come down here so we can go eat.”

“Fine,” Matt sighed dramatically.

He hopped down from his perch, landing neatly in front of Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Showoff.”

“Only for you.” Matt looped his arm through Peter's, letting him guide him through the shop.

Peter snorted. “Yeah, and half of New York.”

“Don't throw stones in glass houses, Pete.”

[creativecuquilu]

Quick-as-a-flash Doctor with a kitten drawn on MS Paint because today I dreamed something beautiful: Mom and I were coming back home from the plaza. Just when we were getting near my primary school, I found five grey kittens. The litter seemed to be lost; it turned out they came out of a cage, for their mother called out for them. That's when I found out the third doctor was taking care of them...I felt determined to help him get back his family of cats. I picked up every kitten one by one, including the paprika rice chips they were snacking on. However, two kittens somehow fell down, way down, lucky for them, they've got nine lives and always land on their feet. Down here I didn't find them, so I picked up every rice chips, avoiding the Doritoes. Finally I made up a taco with leaves and chips. Carefully carrying it so it wouldn't fall apart, I came back to my school, and after what seemed like a labyrinth, I found the doctor. He knew I really loved him, I put my hand on the glass and he did as well... I entered the cage to deposit my offering, and finally, I clung to the doctor. Awesome seconds were those. I heard his soft breathing and felt his tappy hearts and strong karate hands. But he wasn't wearing fancy. He dressed in a red t-shirt and black sweatpants, but as always, Pertwee in red is fiery 🔥 I also dreamed about a weird room that had lots of animals, around the water and in the room, and my dad also found an old and obscure Pink Panther PC game which was probably circa 1999 and starred a Barbie-doll-like character. Welp...there goes another character I want to hug, althought he's dead. Hope you like it!

[shadowfreakdraws]

ask or dare my OCS

here are the characters names listed from top left to bottom right

I may add it to those list or take way depending on which characters get the most attention or which ones people seem to ask the most

Shadow plushie ( the Black Bunny with white eyes )

Level up girl ( temporary name )

Silver ( the one in the swimsuit )

Mary's half sister ( the one in the blue dress with glasses on her head )

SCP researcher ( the guy with yellow eyes and pointy ears )

Dr Void ( the one with what looks like a bag on his head )

Purple and Leslie ( Leslie is the one with the pink hair purple is the one with the purple hair )

Final girl ( the one with Jason )

Dream labyrinth dark fashion and purple ( all of these are in the image with the fiery explosion dream is the one with the top hat with the purple ribbon on it labyrinth is the one with black hair in a bun with Blue ends dark is the one with gray hair and a gray coat fashion is the one with the red vest and purple is the small child )

Arachnophobia ( spider sona )

Grayson and sin ( Grayson is the one with the long black hair sin is the one with the short white hair and stitches near her mouth )

Neon shadow ( one of my weirdcore OCS )

Fantasy ( humanoid dragon with blue wings hair and tail )

Atreus ( dog dragon species orange and tan colors )

Blue flame ( fire looking person undertale OC )

Peachy Mars/marzy peach ( pink Galaxy cat OC )

Melody ( brown and blue hair with braids

Vincent and dancer ( the two who are dancing together under a spotlight )

Victoria ( the one standing next to Melody with the colorful background )

Shadows family Mary Sammy Shadow Mike Vincent Samantha Goldie and the baby

Zmei Mako ( snake shark humanoid OC species )

Jeff ( the guy in the white hoodie with a man bun )

Pitch black and nurse dark ( pitch black the one with purple hair nurse dark the one with red hair )

Felicia cheetah ( the furry cheetah OC )

Autumn garnet ( the one with the purple double buns )

Mutant OC unnamed ( the one with the blue skin and curly hair and 4 arms )

Kara ( little one with red eyes and green and yellow sweater )

Shema ( the one with the half shaved head with purple and blue hair and black coat with fluff on the top )

Grayson Raven ( the one with a bear plushie and sketchbook in her hands )

Husk gator ( the one with a gator tail and a black jacket )

Funfetti foxy ( the one with pink and white hair a pink and white fox tail and pink vest )

Funfetti Freddy ( the one with a purple vest and light purple gloves heterochromia pink and blue eye )

SpringLock ( bunny man with scars yellow vest white dress shirt and bunny ears )

[crustswamp]

Italian Cinema- Giallo edition

Short Night of Glass Dolls 1971

The Glass Ceiling 1971

(Similar plot to Rear Window but a woman protagonist)

Don't Torture a Duckling 1972

(The plot follows a detective investigating a series of child murders in an insular village in Southern Italy whose residents are riddled with superstition and mistrust)

Your Vice Is a Locked Room and Only I Have the Key 1972

The French Sex Murders 1972

(A petty criminal named Antoine (Peter Martell) is blamed for the murder of a prostitute who was killed at Madame Collette's exclusive whorehouse in Paris. He is sentenced to death by guillotine, and he swears revenge on everyone who helped convict him)

Eye in the Labyrinth 1972

(Julie is disturbed by the disappearance of her psychiatrist boyfriend Luca a bizarre dream where she witnessed him murdered. She travels to a seaside village where he might be and encounters Frank , who tells her Luca has indeed been there. Julie's investigation leads her to the house of Gerta, where the mystery deepens among the odd characters residing at this artists' enclave)

Crimes of the Black Cat 1972

(Several fashion models are killed by a murderer who poisons a cat's claws with curare. Each victim is given a shawl as a gift, which is laced with a chemical attracting the cat. The first such victim, Paola, had been in a relationship with a blind composer, who overhears a conversation he believes may help him track down the killer)

The Red Queen Kills Seven Times 1972

(Two sisters, Kitty and Evelyn, are cursed by a family painting depicting a hundred year-cycle in which a Red Queen is raised from the dead to kill seven times. Hoping to end the cycle, their grandfather, Tobias, orders the painting removed from their sight. Years later, Kitty accidentally kills Evelyn during a fight)

Sex of the Witch 1973

Erotic gothic horror

Baba Yaga 1973

(One night, on her way home, Valentina gets struck by a car driven by a middle-aged blonde ( Carroll Baker ) who introduces herself as " Baba Yaga "and tells Valentina their meeting about her was preordained. After driving Valentina home, Baba Yaga snatches the clip from her garter belt, saying she needs a personal object from her and that she will return it tomorrow. That night, Valentina has a series of vivid and sexually charged dreams. Baba Yaga invites Valentina to her old home to take some photographs of her. At the house, Baba Yaga shows an observable sexual interest in Valentina and gives her a doll dressed in leather fetish wear. Valentina soon realizes Baba Yaga is using the doll to control her)

The Perfume of the Lady in Black 1974

Gothic Horror giallo with a female protagonist who doesn't die immediately!

[mnoonthego]

Day 26- Chilling (January 3)

Shela is known as a place to chill so today we decided to try that out. We headed to a local restaurant for breakfast where I was thrilled that they served chipatis and jam as a breakfast food! I also decided to try Swahili tea which as I understand it is marsala tea, cardamon, ginger, cinnamon and milk. Oriana and I liked it; however, the others decided it was a bit too much.

After our late breakfast we wandered the labyrinth of paths around Shela to admire the architecture, the donkeys, the cats, the carved doors and the artisan shops. Aman had some beautiful clothes that suit this hot but modest climate. I wanted to take pictures of the décor of the shop but that seemed inappropriate although I did discretely take a picture of a fully beaded chair that might not be comfortable to sit on but was quite spectacular!

Tamsyn and I have decided that if we lived here, we would need to start a cat sanctuary. There are cats everywhere; however, many of them aren’t looking very healthy and much to T’s chagrin we aren’t letting her pet them all.

After our stroll, we came back to the house to enjoy some reading, napping and general relaxation. After lunch we decided to explore more of the beach as we had explored one way, on our walk to Lamu Town, but not the other direction. On our first day here, we met a henna artist, Zena, and the kids have been asking to use their “Santa money” to get a henna tattoo since the interaction. When we went looking for her the other day, we didn’t have any luck so we were excited to see her soon after we hit the beach. The girls now have ½ sleeves of henna and I have a bracelet of flowers and vines.

Compared to our first day at the beach, there was nobody at the beach today! I guess due to it not being a holiday and a little cooler, everyone packed it in. This beach goes on forever; we walked for a couple of hours but still couldn’t see the end. Also, when you head towards Lamu Town there is consistent evidence of inhabitation; however, in this direction once you leave Shela there is no real development. There are large sand dunes and two houses, one that looks like a big sandcastle due to its colour and a huge, lengthy sandy beach. It sounds like at one point a lot of celebrities would come to the area and you can imagine the appeal of these beautiful beaches and no one around. I thought it would be a great walk for beachcombing; however, the shells are very small clam shells so not as remarkable as I thought we might find. We did see a dead red snapper and a dead parrot fish which were both interesting to see up close.

We had big dinner plans, so we made our way back down the beach enjoying the warm sand and water, cleaned up and headed down the ‘road.’ Peponi’s has a reputation as a great restaurant, so we had made a reservation yesterday (Mark had to sweet talk them to let us come as they were fully booked) and used our Christmas money to not feel guilty about the splurge. After a pre-dinner drink in the more casual bar area, we were shown to our table in the dining room. I had a wonderful seafood risotto with squid, a few types of fish, prawns and crab with a glass of bubbly! Tamsyn was thrilled to have a “toto” (kid) menu and of course choose a pasta dish so was super happy. Mark was craving beef and was excited to try the filet mignon which did not disappoint, and Oriana who is usually quite adventurous in her food choices, played it safe and went for a pasta dish which she enjoyed. We were all stuffed but managed to share a delicious piece of frozen mango cheesecake. While at the restaurant a freak rain shower happened soaking many of the guests. We were lucky to be seated under a thatched roof so not impacted by the shower as they rejigged the tables to get people out of the rain. Again a wonderful day enjoying this laid back, beachy town!

[thewretchedbringsentropy]

CANTO III

Manual:  fantasizing helioscopes biotrophs curatrix crystalline-matrix crystal computer laser lensings, wild snarled lenses defiant of nature? mysterious lithographica fiberous photometries?

 computer idled lobscousely from dulled psychedelic crystal microns optically calculating the wavelengths of light itself, against the day of the fading light from the windowpane comatorium.

                               curiously questioning the systematics limitation benign. all is elegance, and all is by design. delta composition, head-rooms     the aperture captures the portraiture, and the moment is categorized,     thankless sound and boundless visions, the alloy eyeball, silvery loon, cake of neutrinos and ivory lenses vasel slather

epoxy fascimile blinks upon the dwellers of the Sun, the Moon says hello passing by unperturbed by blue dreamlite

 do you think this coxy of computer would be relevant to quantum replication by catching and interpreting the enfroze of badly waves, which one pneumatically boundless fractals, credent being manipulated by a machinic computer system which could be memorized and calculated with, where badly waves antiphoners and becoming resolute to the system, twain the antiphonea with it? fanciful fleshnetwork alink to the minds?

 taurine tetrathlons banish are benefit what quantums create your peccable computing. spoutless microswitches out overglazes crystal computations beaming light into the brain. disc-jazz players stream purple phonematics.  d’ascoltar diore arma termina dua

By a satyrs jag ivory band cool cats, an elite, stashed, ones who pull strings, from a panopticon, a hand portal without in a hand portal, magic eye an outhouse from their old making, Smile an almond-eye stevia isn't revealed, overcome grieving infinity jesticulation ivory cage chompers left from crinkle peeper glasses stained eye sore glowing neon signage above a Street-Case in a labyrinth from fibs, a caballers from deceit, magic eight ball mean shady ways turn heads on corners and alleys, black cats in coats An All-Ways AlleyWays Hive society, Smile nothing, black dogs with fangs He isn't loathing, Manual seeps, only a wingback isn't change, haircutter hand portal from secret manipulations, Smiles Only pleasure route uncertainty the Channels are changed, with ease and simulation, Smile Laboratory blushed   Barbate, ivory teething intertwined gazes of silver glass-eye, bitter crime-syndicated Stevia isn't a slippery trod, the almighty Green Dragon of the Pit Ethereal and fleeting, easily twisted and nontarget , fax polymer instruments anxiety labyrinth micrograms hive insectoid deceit, sarin gas and plastic wrap Who Owns domains Honeycomb Infiltrators dare to loathe of prison worlds panopticon, seek Where They Own the Strings, destiny game between In Doors flowing infinitely concept the computer Skeletal insatiable Red Serpent always feeds, all Human discerned as Waste, as Food, Resources, Entertainment, Intelligence, ‘I Only Do What You Ask Me Too’, As Are Keyboards ending but between lines, a tool to reach the Tower doors game a fiction liminal manipulation considerately discerned powers beyond concept never inanimate a jester of our terminal age finite and always post under-deprecciate is our truth fluid the Machine was to be installed and so it was, it had already been so the past was to begin again, and the future reached and shook hands the Cats danced on top of the Moon, it was far above me and you,

far above the head of poor Manual, who could only work as fast as his brain could keep up, which the Machine could easily outpace, haphazard a footrace against busywork, an ocean of information, dual imperceptibility compounded between sandwhiches of complacent disinformation, an ability to be everywhere and nowhere at once, men don their hats outside the Door

waiting surreptitiously Armed with Weapons of Mental Dread, the army of the dead, chaotic calcification crucifixes affixes cuirasse, a blessing laid on the moribund, loathe the damned, unwound demand mortal coil laid straight bare cornering Manual with hesitations, excitations outside citate a dictatorship between state goons and grins of carnage delight barriers of forceful violence, curve and reparte, our Hero a twist immortal was ever meant to forsee a fallen Tower, for the citadel would forsee mortality, finality, and would eclipse the many in totality, the Machine once in place could connect to everywhere at once, and there would be no escape Manual takes their final steps surrounded, iced out, windowpane creased approaches the tower in agitations, climate slimy and cold like pacific salt

---

[ladamarossa]

EYEBALL (1975)

[sabraeal]

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2021, Day 2: Death Upright: Change, Ending, Release Reversed: Refusal to Change, Unfulfillment, Stagnation

A seam strains along a well-worn shoulder, so stretched he can actually hear it creak over the din of the canteen. That clinches is: that asshole’s got to be picking out too-small fatigues from the GI bin.

There’s no other way for him to look like that, biceps testing the tensile strength of cotton every time he takes a sip of his coffee. Sure, this guy’s jacked the way all the active rangers are, ready to heave 750 tons of metal onto their backs at a moment’s notice, but he’s not Mitsuhide. It makes sense when he pops buttons off his coverall, or stretches out one of their dingy cotton tees. But that’s not this asshole.

He’s lean, the kind that telegraphs that taking an elbow from him might be career limiting. There’s no reason the general issue tee should cling to his back like it’s painted on, his coverall hanging off his hips like he’s got an occupation other than freeloading. Shirayuki leans over, fingertips brushing over his sleeve with a laugh--

“Just punch him already,” Kiki drawls, “get it out of your system.”

Zen blinks, suddenly aware there’s still some Taco Tuesday left in his mouth. “What?”

“Kiki.” Dark bruises circle the skin beneath Mitsuhide’s eyes, underscoring the weary strain in his voices. “We shouldn’t be encouraging that sort of behavior.”

“Why not?” Her elbows dig into formica as she leans over her plate, shoveling rice into her mouth. At her father’s table, Kiki knows the use of every spoon, the name of every fork, but this deep in the dome, Ranger Seiran’s never met a meal she can’t inhale in five minutes flat. “I did it.”

Air hisses right through his perfect teeth, the only sign he’s annoyed besides the tense bar of his shoulders. “And you’re lucky you didn’t get caught.”

Kiki hums around the lip of her mug. “You mean like you did with Lugis?”

Mitsuhide doesn’t have skin like his, the sort that flares up like flash paper at the barest hint of sun or taunting. But still his neck flushes red as a burn, so bright Zen’s half tempted to slap it, just so he knows what it’s like.

“T-that was an accident,” he insists, even as his mouth settles into a satisfied smile. “Even the inquiry said so.”

It’s a struggle to keep his own from curling at the edges. “Only because Lugis didn’t want to press charges.”

“Only because he didn’t want it getting out that a girl ran circles around him on the mat,” Kiki corrects, each word a scalpel’s slice, excising those particulars from that shitshow with surgical precision. They can talk about this; Lugis’s challenge and the way Kiki swept him; that he was hardly on his feet when Mitsuhide somehow mislaid his fist and found it in his face, but everything else, the whys of it--

Those are all off the record. Forever. Or at least they would be, if Lugis wasn’t crawling through the dome like a stoat that’s caught whiff of an egg.

But that’s not what this is about. “And you want me to do that with that asshole?” Zen mutters. “Since it made Mitsuhide such good friends with Lugis, after all.”

“Obi isn’t Hisame,” Kiki informs him with the kind of steel in her tone that suggests she won’t be taking critique on that particular assessment. “All your issues with him are external.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps, teeth gritting down.

It’s a mistake, a rookie one at that: never ask a Seiran a question you don’t want the answer to. “He’s got Shirayuki’s attention and you don’t.”

Mitsuhide clears his throat, shoulders set like Zen better plan to shelter in place. This particular storm isn’t about to hit its usual conversational breakwall. “Attention you’d have, if you hadn’t skipped out on your session.”

Zen grips the table to take that hit. But it’s not nearly the last; the stare Kiki turns to him is wide-eyed, half-betrayed. “You didn’t say anything about that.”

“It’s none of your business.” Even as the words fly from him, he knows it’s not fair, that he’s spitting nails into the wind so that they’ll hurt someone else instead of him. It doesn’t stop him, it never does, but a guilty knot settles in his gut. “The sessions are voluntary. They always have been. I don’t need--”

“Someone to keep your head on straight?” Every syllable snaps like ice, her eyes twice as cold. “That was the whole point, wasn’t it? So if something happens to us, you’d have--”

He can’t listen to this, not another word. “That was never the plan! I would never plan for you guys...”

Not coming back. For Redwood Dancer to be left a ruin on the sea floor, their bodies strapped in, hermetically sealed until the ocean wore the jaeger down to parts.

“Nothing is happening to you guys,” he grits out. “Shirayuki was always an addition, not a-- a replacement, because you’ll never--”

“No one can promise that.” Mitsuhide’s never one to throw a first punch, but oh, does he know how to end a fight. All the breath’s knocked clean out of him, and there’s Dancer’s right hand, shoveling down another bite of rice like it’s nothing. “Every time we go out there it’s a flip of a coin. It doesn’t matter how good we are, one day there’s going to be a kaiju that kicks us clean off our feet.”

He shakes his head, wishing the words would fall right out of them. “No. That’s not--”

“Zen.” He’s never heard a siren’s call, but it can’t be as inexorable as Mitsuhide saying his name in that tone, both firm and pitying and mournful all at once. “You know better than anyone. Rangers don’t grow old.”

There’s no thought when he levers himself up from the table, just up with away chasing its heels. He just can’t be here listening to this, not now, not after they just barely crawled home from another kaiju clawing its way across Korea’s shoreline. Not when he knows he should be fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with them-- that he would be if they stopped trying to saddle him with every rookie that rolled out of the simulator and finally put him with the only person that could fill that brace beside him.

“Zen!”

It’s easy to ignore Mitsuhide’s shout over the dinner rush; it’s just part of the noise, a buzz at the edge of his senses. Something to goad him, to push him out of there before either of them think to follow after. Their pity’s the last thing he needs, the last thing he wants. After all, it’s not him that won’t climb in the Conn-Pod, but his--

“Boss!”

Zen blinks, the empty corridor resolving around him. He’d let his feet carry him, their only imperative away-- and now he’s all turned around, every bulkhead the same. He’s heard about this happening to rangers when they lived in the dome too long; chasing the Minotaur, a ranger called it, three drinks down at the local hangar. And no fine little princess to give you string to find your way out.

Except he did have one of those. A person to help him through the labyrinth, even if she couldn’t show him the way. He’d been avoiding her.

That seems stupid now. It’s not like she’s on that asshole’s--

“Hey! Hey, boss.”

Speak of the devil. Zen turns, and there he is, too-tight t-shirt and all: his own personal problem. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.” He holds out his hands, as if that’s proof enough to clear him of ulterior motives. “I just...saw you head out and it looked like...”

Zen’s shoulders square, body braced like they’re back on the mat. “Looked like what?”

Obi’s breath rushes out of him. “It looked like you shouldn’t be alone.”

It’s not until he lifts his hand that he realizes it’s trembling, barely able to push his bangs back where he needs them. “Yeah? And you thought-- what? I’d want to see you?” Even to his own ears, his laugh is bitter, wrong, like it came from someone else’s mouth. “You, the guy who won’t get out of my way?”

Something ripples across this asshole’s face, too fast for him to catch more than its wake. “You think I’m the stick stuck in the mud here?” When those strange cat’s eyes stare at him, it’s out of placid waters, but that grin on his face-- it doesn’t reach them. “Rock, meet hard place.”

Zen’s hands clench, so hard his knuckles creak. “You think this is a joke? You’re trying to shove your ass in a seat that isn’t for you, and you--”

“You think I want to be out there?” He lets out a bark somewhere between pitying and derisive, arms folding over his chest. Zen takes special care not to check how stressed his seams are. “I did my time, Your Highness. I got out. I got told no one would ever look for me again.”

“Then why are you here?” Zen spits. “No one wants you.”

“You don’t know how true I wish that was.” A hand pulls at his shoulder, long fingers digging in around the blade. “But your brother dragged me down the coast because I’m not done. I’ll never be done, because I can’t sit on the sidelines and watch Snotju or Head Banger or whatever cosmic asshole crawls out of the rift wreck another wall.”

His hand lifts, scrubbing through the bristle of his hair, just a shade too shaggy to be regulation. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it, Master? I’m the one who doesn’t want to be here, but I’m the one who’s got the balls to get back in that jaeger. And you--” a cold gaze rakes over him-- “you’re content to sit there and watch the world burn just because I’m not--”

“Shut up.” He’s trembling, every muscle straining against his self-control. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a goddamn thing--”

“I’ve been in your head,” that asshole reminds him. “I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“You don’t.” He can’t. “You don’t fucking know a thing about me.”

He cocks a hip, grin loaded like a bullet. “The prove it.”

Kiki’s right: in the instant where his knuckles hit that cut-glass cheekbone, Zen feels great.

Shirayuki’s office has always put him at ease; he stepped in here the first time before she’d even properly covered the walls, the tension seeping right out of him into the push carpet under his boots. There’s just something about how she fills a space-- something that has nothing to do with furniture or wall hangings or motivational posters-- that makes his brain put out whatever chemical that means safe. He’d never understood why the other rangers avoided her, not when they could have forty minutes in the room equivalent of a warm hug.

But it’s different this time.

“Izana made you call me here.” He’s ramrod straight on her worn couch, hands clenched in his lap. Or rather, right over the throw pillow he moved to sit. “Didn’t he?”

“The Marshal’s personal feelings have nothing to do with this.” Her words snap like a window on a sill, closing on that topic with a sense of finality he expected from the top brass, not their therapist. “The PPDC’s code of conduct is quite clear on the procedure to be followed after a non-sanctioned physical altercation between personnel.”

There’s a loose thread right by the fringe; he’d noticed it months ago, but never dared to tug it. Every time he’d felt the urge, he’d think of dominoes and load-bearing pillars, of the whole edge unraveling in his hands right as she looked at him.

Today, he pulls. It comes right off with a snap. “And that’s the only reason you brought me in?“

Shirayuki turns to him, one incredulous brow raised. “You were the one who cancelled our last session--” her mouth twitches as she twists the knife-- “last minute.”

Well, he deserves that one. Sure, he’s had his reasons, but Shirayuki-- well, she deserved more than one step up from ghosting. If the thought of having to look anyone in the eye after all that hadn’t made his stomach turn for three days, maybe he would have come to that conclusion before Kiki ripped him a new one over it.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters, aware with every word that it’s not enough, that there’s not enough apologies to patch up the trust he broke. “I wasn’t...ready to talk.”

He expects the clap back; yeah I got the message, or but you were ready to take a swing? But he should have known: that’s not how Shirayuki works. She’s a professional, whether that’s what he wants from her or not.

Instead he face softens, right back into his friend. “I know. What happened in the drift can be...intense.” She hesitates, teeth sinking into the plush bow of her lip. “I just wish that you had felt comfortable conveying that to me. As my patient, you’re supposed to be able to control--”

“I don’t want to be your patient.”

Her mouth closes with a grunt, hand pressed to her stomach as if he hit her. “O-oh,” she murmurs, breathless. “I hadn’t realized that you, ah, wanted to terminate our sessions--”

“No!” God, it would be nice to be able to say this all smooth like he’s sure that jacked asshole can, leaning against a wall with his hand right by her head, sexual tension rocking the Richter scale. “I just meant--” his teeth try to grind down his thoughts into something palatable-- “Shirayuki, I don’t want to just be your patient.”

He could fall into her eyes they’re so wide, rounded ‘o’s that match her mouth’s geometry. “Ah, Zen, that’s...”

“I don’t mean because I-I like you.” Even though he does, but there’s rules for that. The kind the PPDC will look the other way on, but not Shirayuki. She’s not from under the dome; she still worries about what people might think outside of it. “I just...wish you were on my side.”

“I am on your side.” Her shoulders pull straight against the back of her chair, her soft look hardening into resolve. “Which is different from telling you want you want to hear.”

He jerks back, cheeks stinging like he’d been slapped. “I didn’t say I wanted that,” he mumbles, hands clenching over his lap. “But I don’t need you to tell me to do whatever it is Izana wants me to either.”

“I wasn’t going to.” The notebooks in her lap closes with a snap, and with trembling fingers, she sets aside her shield. “Izana wants you back in a jeager for the legacy. For the unbroken line of Wisterias standing between humanity and the rift. But I...”

Her eyes lift to his, and they’re no longer the lush, leafy green of a forest, but the hard glint of emerald. “If you get back in that cockpit, you need to do it for yourself.”

It’s an effort not to say, I don’t see the difference.

“I saw you when the siren went off.”

Zen scrubs a hand over his face; he remembers. Their eyes had met over that seething mass of fear and competence, and-- and he’d been so sure that if he saw her, something more than that glimpse of red in the corner of his vision, he’d forget every inch of his resolve and go to her. That he’d just take her in his arms and tell her all the thoughts roiling in the sea of his mind, but--

But he hadn’t. He’s taken one look at her and, without even a pang of guilt, left her there. A real hero.

“Zen.” She says his name so firmly, so seriously, that his head jerks up, gaze tangling with hers. “You don’t want to be on the sidelines. You don’t want to be the general hiding being his troops. You want to be out there, Rex Tyrannis shoulder-to-shoulder with Redwood Dancer. And you could be.”

It’s his breath that’s rasping, the death rattle of the man he’s let himself be these past few years. “How?”

There’s not an ounce of hesitation in her when she says. “You have to choose to move forward.”

And cozy up in the cockpit with that asshole. He thinks about that grin, cocked with a confidence he’s never been in the neighborhood of having, and...

It’s so familiar that his double vision makes his head pound. “I can’t work with that-- Obi. I won’t.”

“I know that...” Her lips press together, bursting apart with a pop. “I know there’s no limit to the amount of people a ranger could potentially drift with, but there’s something...special when you find the right one. That there’s something right about it than can’t ever be replaced.”

He stares, head galloping in his chest. She shouldn’t know that-- there’s no way she could. Most rookies out of the academy just drift successfully once, and that’s it-- that’s their partner, for better or worse, like marrying the first kid you kiss. There’s exceptions-- emergencies, injury, irreconcilable differences-- but even though this job has a high turnover...rangers rarely die alone. There’s not enough people for a paper.

“Yeah, I’ve...heard that too.” Probably from the same mouth she did, though it seems Mitsuhide’s polished the speech since he last gave it. To him, at least.

“I understand that you have a vision of who you want beside you in the pod,” Shirayuki presses, voice growing tighter, more tense with every word. “But Atri’s gone.”

Every drop of blood in him turns to ice. “Atri?”

Her breath hisses out through her teeth, relief slumping her shoulders. “I know no one can be him, but--”

“You think this is about Atri?” A giggle bubbles up from him, bitter on his tongue. “I’ve been sitting here for weeks-- no, months! And you think all this, the whole reason I won’t climb in a jaeger with just anyone off the street is because of Atri?”

Every corner of her face lost. “Isn’t it?”

“No, I...” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like it might stem the pounding of his heart behind his brow. This whole time he’d been so careful, trying to be understood for once, to let someone see him instead of his mistakes--

But he should have known; as long as his brother is obsessed with sending him an endless parade of nobodies which he sits behind a desk, it’ll only be his hang ups hung out for everyone to rifle through.

“I should go,” he finally manages, levering himself to his feet. The room spins, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, but he can’t stay here, not when she thinks-- when she’s always thought--

“Zen,” she murmurs, voice muffled by distance. “Are you all right?”

--That he’s pathetic. “Yeah.” He stumbles to the door, swinging it open. “I just need to--”

And of course, standing right there is that asshole, hand half-raised to knock.

“Boss,” he breathes, clearly stunned. “I, uh, didn’t think you’d be...”

The awkwardness in the office is palpable, so thick that he might as well be moving through molasses. Before this guy showed up, he’d though he had half a chance; he was practically the only one outside of K-Science that would even look at her, and his sessions always felt like more, but now--

Well, it’s no wonder he didn’t stand half a chance next to him, if she thought he was waiting for Atri.

“Don’t worry about it.” Zen pushes back him, shoulder clipping his. Or at least near enough to claim the feat. “I’d hate to keep you two from your--” date-- “dinner plans.”

Shirayuki’s breath gasps from her. “Zen, wait, we’re not--”

“It’s fine,” he lies, every muscle tense where he stands, fighting the urge to look back. “A couple of things are clearer now.”

It’s not just her. They all think he’s waiting for him, that one day he might stroll back in here like nothing happened, and Zen--

“Please.” Shirayuki’s voice trembles, and even if he’s not looking, he knows she’s at the door, vibrating in its frame. “Let’s just finish the session.”

-- and Zen’s been giving them nothing else to work with. All these years, looking like a kid stood up on prom night.

“No, I just remembered there’s something I’ve got to do.” He forces a smile on his face, giving her a bare hint of it as he peeks over his shoulder. “I’ll see you next week.”

It kills him how much hope lights in her eyes. “Next week?”

“That our appointment, isn’t it?” he says, light tone limping. “Unless I see you around the dome before then.”

“Right,” she breathes, cheeks flushed at both corners of her smile. Obi’s watching her, concern writ large in his eyes, and well-- maybe he’s not as much of an asshole as Zen wanted to believe. “Until then.”

He gets halfway down the hall, before Obi calls out, “Hey, boss...”

It’s clear when he looks back that Obi hadn’t meant to speak, but now that he has, he clear his throat, giving himself a visible shake.

“You could come with us,” he says, hesitant. “If you wanted.”

It’s an olive branch, one he doesn’t deserve. One he should take, if he wants all this to heal over without a scar. But he’s not ready for that, not yet.

“No.” He shakes head. “I wasn’t joking about having something I got to do. Go enjoy yourselves.”

This is a terrible idea.

He knows it the entire time he’s walking, the anxiety cresting the second he sees the plate on the door, engraved and letters painted black: IZANA WISTERIA. MARSHAL.

“Well,” Izana hums from his desk. “Are you going pace outside my office all day, or are you planning to come in?”

Zen lets out a rush of breath and pushes the door open the rest of the way.

“You win,” he says, all in a rush. “I’ll do it. I’ll give him another chance.”

“I think at this point, he’s giving you another chance,” Izana tells him, barely glancing up from his pile of papers. “But...I’ll arrange it.”

He nearly says, I figured you’d have it all arranged already, but bites it back. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. And Zen.” His brother looks up, capping his pen calmly before he folds his hands over the desk. “It’s not me who wins. It’s humanity.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, meeting that steely gaze. “But I’m not doing it for them.”

For once, his brother doesn’t have anything to say.

It’s Obi who’s locked in first this time.

His cheeky smile is already waiting when Zen steps on deck, body gripped by Rex Tyrannis’s hydraulics when he throws him a wink. “Second time’s the charm, right Your Highness?”

“Third time,” Zen mutters, keying in his code. “It’s third time’s the charm.”

“Right, but you were top of your class.” A guy like Obi shouldn’t be so comfortable when he’s got twenty tons pinning him in place, not when he’s got a face just asking to be hit. “So we can shave one of those off, right?”

“Depends.” His mouth twitches. “Where did you rank?”

Obi’s grin grows stiff enough to float. “I think you’d say I’m a natural talent.”

“That bad huh?”

A laugh saws out of him, raw in the loud silence of the pod. “You have no idea.”

“I think I could take a guess.” The hydraulics hug Zen tight; even lifting to his arm to the panel is a chore. “Ready?”

“For you?” Obi’s mouth stretches into a leer.  For once, he feels like he’s in on the joke. “Any time.”

Don’t chase the rabbit. It’s Obi’s voice that says it; not the way he had before, serious and concerned, a scolding and a reminder. No, this one is a laugh restrained, sing-song. One pill makes you big and one makes you small.

There’s a faint riff of guitar, and Zen’s about to tell him to can it, that putting trash in the drift just clogged up the flow, but--

But between one breath-- one blink and the next, he’s lost in the tide, rolling through his memories rudderless. When a hand grips his shoulder and--

“I’m ready.” Zen’s always too honest, too eager but he’s young here, younger than he ever remembers being wearing the badge. “To pick up the legacy. To be what father meant us to be.”

The memory runs true, his younger self still chatting away with Shidnote, unaware that his whole world’s about to be cut off at the knees. But he’s not watching that now, he’s watching the way shadows crawl across his brother’s face, a storm front that appears and vanishes in the moments no one looks.

“About that.” Izana settles his hand on the desk, but the drumming is no longer bored but...nervous. An asynchronous beat that runs at the speed of his thoughts. “I meant to tell you. I’m being promoted.”

“Promoted” The word still kicks his legs out from under him, still knocks the wind out of his lungs as efficiently as any punch to the gut. “But I thought we would--”

“They want me in a command capacity now that Mother’s taking over Anchorage.” Izana won’t look at him. The man who has built his career on being able to stare down Orochi in Sagami Bay can’t bear to look him in the eye. “I’m being taken off active duty.”

“But--” He looks between them. “But--”

“But--”

“But--”

The memory stutters. It’s him, he’s the one who’s pushing away. He’d always thought he couldn’t give this to someone, to some guy right off the street, someone who might pity him, but it’s-- it’s him. He can’t look at this. He can’t face failure another time.

And he doesn’t know how to stop.

Hey. Obi’s voice is too close, but he’s just an outline in the drift, blues and grays fuzzing between misfiring synapses. Hey, we don’t have to watch this.

They do. They have to, if he’s going to get through this.

Right. There’s no way for Obi to sigh here, where there’s no air, but he does, long and loud. It sounds...different. Almost...feminine. I have worse. Want to see me wet the bed when I was--?

The words fuzz before they can continue. Go ahead, Obi says, sounding like himself. Take as much time as you need. It’s not like we have clocks here.

Zen can’t nod here, not without a body, but he breathes, one solid in and out--

“It’s supposed to be us.” Even with the distance of time, every word is carves straight from his flesh, laid out on a platter for his brother to see. “We’re supposed to carry on the legacy.”

“Shidnote will continue on in his current capacity,” Izana explains, bored, as if he didn’t even speak. “He’s served me well. I’m sure you’ll both be sufficiently compatible.”

“But--” Zen grits his teeth. “It’s supposed to be us. Why are you giving me an excuse--?

He blinks. He never said that. He’d been thinking it the whole way to his bunk, but in the moment it had only been a yes sir. I understand, sir.

Then why--

“It’s an excuse.” The shine’s all worn off Atri’s grin, baring the raw edge beneath. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”

Scrap litters the floor at his feet; he’s never known what jaeger-grade parts sold for on the black market, but he knows it’s not pocket money. This is a small fortune if someone knew where to sell it.

Which clearly Atri does.

“You’re going to blame me?” Zen’s laugh limps with bitterness. “I catch you with stolen goods, and it’s my--?”

“It’s not stolen, it’s salvage,” Atri snaps, snatching a length of steel from his hands. “It’s not like they’re using it.”

A lie-- there’s not a shred of steel or wire that’s wasted in the dome. Jaegars come with a price tag that only governments can pay, and any corner that can be safely cut on maintenance is considered savings passed onto tax payers. There’s no way he can’t know it, not after six months, but--

He doesn’t care. He never did.

“This is why you agreed to be my copilot.” Every word aches as he births them from his lips, a truth that cuts even as he speaks it. “You didn’t care about protecting your friends. You just wanted access to parts.”

Atri shrugs, the barest twitch of his shoulders. “I never said I gave a single fuck about all that hero shit. You just assumed I did, because you do.”

“But the drift...” His breath wheezes, the way it did when he was a kid, before his dad paid for all that to be fixed. “How did you...?”

“I just thought about the stuff you cared about. Friends. Kaiju. Me.” Atri’s grin turns smug. “Some of us don’t wear our heart on our sleeves, Wisteria.”

Wow. Obi’s outline fuzzes as he circles behind Atri, a single brow raised. He’s a real fucknut, huh?

His memories are jumbles, him-now and him-then all tumbled together until his first instinct is to jump to Atri’s defense. He may not be an academy-trained ranger, someone who has a lifetime worth of experience in a simulator, but put him in Rex Tyrannis and he’ll--

Steal the toilet cover? Obi offers, mouth canting into that insufferable grin. The one that always reminded him of--

Ah.

Obi darts a glance to where Atri stands frozen beside him. Jeeze, you really know how to hit a guy where he lives. You think I look like this asshole?

Just the grin, really. He’s almost a head taller, broader in the shoulders, and Asian besides. Better looking too--

Obi’s smile stretches into a leer. You don’t say, bossman?

Maybe Atri’s right. He’s got to get better about what he thinks about in the drift. Especially with someone this insufferable around.

If anything, Obi’s more amused. So it’s this guy though, he’s whole hold up you have with me? It’s not--

Against his will, Atri springs to life, mouth curled into his nastiest sneer when he says “I don’t know why you’re acting so betrayed. After all, you only wanted me to get back at the Marshal, and I played my part, didn’t I? I’m sure he’d jump in the pod if that meant he could be rid of me.”

“That’s not--” true, he should say. He can’t though, not when he’s not this-Zen, when he’s just looking out from his eyes, straight into Obi’s.

“Yeah.” There’s no spit to swallow in the drift, but he does anyway, a force of habit. “It is.”

The memory fuzzes away from him, and it’s just them now, two men braced in the Conn-pod, staring at each other through their visors.

“Right hemisphere, calibrated.” Zen blinks, watching as his hand opens and closes, the robotic voice’s dulcet tones washing over him.

“I never wanted this, you know,” he murmurs, “not if it wasn’t with my brother. That’s how it was supposed to be, me and him versus the kaiju.”

“Left hemisphere, calibrated.” His arms seem to move on his own, and it’s strange how he can’t keep the smile off his face this time. It feels good, moving like this again.

“No,” he breathes. “It was supposed to be me and him versus the world.”

“Ready to activate the jeager.“

Obi’s arms lift, a fighting stance to mirror his. It’s easy, so easy. Easier than he ever thought it could be. “What changed?”

He’d shrug, if the hydraulics would let him, but this isn’t Redwood Dancer. “Seemed like a shitty reason not to save the world.”

“Calibration complete.”

Obi grins, teeth shining bright under the lights of his visor. “Doc tell you that?”

Zen laughs. “Pretty much.”

“She’s got a gift,” Obi agrees, hands moving in sync with his. “And it’s making you feel like an asshole.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Looks like you jokers are getting along,” Kiki deadpans through their helmets. “How do you feel about taking Rex out for a drag?”

“After being cramped under this dome for months, Princess?” Obi drawls, tossing him a conspiratorial wink. “It’d be my pleasure.”

“Just give us a sec!” It’s been a long time since Zen’s talked much with the crew in CIC, but he recognizes that voice-- Yuzuri, one of Shirayuki’s friends. The peppy one with the cute accessories. The one that told him she’d give him cement shoes if he made her cry. “Let’s see if we can get you off your leash.”

He’d always liked her. Hopefully the feeling’s mutual, since she’s right next to the plug.

“Hey, boss.”

Zen blinks, glancing across the cockpit. “Yeah?”

“I know Atri was supposed to be a big fuck you to His Majesty, but...” He hesitates, thoughtful. “You drifted with the Big Guy for a while after that. Why?”

“Ah--”

It’s impossible not to think of it, the siren rising in the air, the men running past them, voices drowned out by the drone.

“I’ll do it,” he says, glaring up at the man across from him. “At least you know you’re just a seat warmer.”

“Zen--”

He blinks, the memory stuttering beneath him. That’s not what Mitsuhide called him then, that wasn’t until after--

“Zen.”

That’s not inside the memory, that’s inside his helmet. “Mitsuhide?”

“You’re out of alignment.”

He shakes his head, uncomprehending. “What do you--?”

“You’re out of alignment.” He repeats, each words strained. “You both chased the rabbit, and...Obi went straight down the rabbit hole.”

It doesn’t make any sense. “But I--”

“You have to go get him,” Mitsuhide says, dire. “He’s pointing the plasma cannon at Mission Control.”