#so!!!!!!!! it's kind of been on my mind; and a general rainy drawing with my furry ocs ofc <3

[avian-hearts]

furry (cheetah) choco ball would say "i gotta lot of soft spots for you" to me <3

[otomehonyaku]

Diabolik Lovers Grand Edition Tokuten Special Booklet Short Stories ☽ Mukami ver. ☽ The Rainy School Night Mystery

Original title: 雨降る夜の学校の怪 English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the scans (special thanks to @karleksmumskladdkaka!) Sakamaki ver. ☽ Year-End Pandemonium (coming soon)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This short story booklet was part of the limited edition release of Grand Edition! Keep reading below the cut for the second short story, featuring the Mukami brothers. I will translate the Sakamaki one at a later date!

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Droplets of rain tapped against the window panes and quickly converged into small streams, drawing curved lines on the glass on their way down. The rain had started the day before yesterday and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Maybe that might have been why, by the time the oppressive humidity began to make everyone feel uneasy…

“Hey, Kitten. I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”

With a smile bright enough to wipe away any worries caused by the weather, Mukami Kou—the idol with a household name—approached Komori Yui in a friendly manner. His presence caused a stir among the other students around them.

Yui grabbed Kou by the sleeve of his uniform jacket and quietly uttered, “Kou, we’ll stand out if we talk here…”

“Alright!”

Yui was puzzled by Kou’s unusually good mood, but followed him to a spot that would keep them away from prying eyes.

“Kou… Did something happen?”

“I heard a very interesting rumour. I thought I’d ask you about it, too.”

“A rumour?”

“Yes! It’s a little strange for this time of year, but it’s about a ghost story. Apparently, most of the students and teachers are familiar with it. Have you heard about it?”

“No… What’s it about?”

As soon as he realised Yui was completely oblivious, Kou gleefully talked away.. 

“Apparently, when it’s very late on a night of endless rain, when most people have left the school… strange sounds start coming from one of the classrooms.” Kou lowered his voice in an attempt to stoke her fear. “Nobody knows exactly where the sounds are coming from. It could be an empty classroom, the art room… You can hear it from various places depending on the day.”

“And… it couldn’t just be a burglar?”

“That’s what I thought, too, but I haven’t heard anything about things going missing, and even if that were the case, wouldn’t the police have been involved already? There’s also rumours going around about it being the students’ own doing, but apparently there are scratch marks in the rooms where the sound came from. Like, in places higher up than the curtains, so people generally wouldn’t be able to reach that high.”

With the odds of it being a student prank getting smaller by the minute, Yui’s throat grew dry. She swallowed loudly.

There shouldn’t be any sounds coming from an unoccupied room. The first thing that came to Yui’s mind was an unscientific explanation—something she would rather not think about.

“So, you mean… it’s a ghost?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! People are saying it might be a ghost.”

“But couldn’t the sounds be coming from the building itself (1)? I heard that ‘strange sounds’ people hear inside their houses are usually just the rattling of the building.”

 “But that’s so boring, Kitten! Ghosts are way more interesting than rattling houses! Besides, people think it’s a ghost for good reason.”

“W-what reason…?!”

The way Kou purposefully explained it to her with such kindness, patience, and in such detail, made Yui shiver. A broad grin spread across the vampire’s face as he pulled Yui’s body closer while surveying their surroundings as if he was afraid of being caught, and started whispering into her ear.

“Some students have already snuck into the building at night as a test of courage, and apparently they saw dark shadows along with the strange sounds they heard. If it had been only one or two students spreading the rumour, it wouldn’t be a very credible story, but when so many people have had the exact same encounter, it’s difficult to still call it a trick of the mind, right? There’s also some students who claim they saw arms wrapped in bandages emerge from the darkness, at the exact timing that the lightning struck outside.”

“Oh…”

“Hm? What’s wrong, Kitten? You look a bit pale.”

“It’s because of your strange story…”

“Hehe! How cute. It’s going to be alright, Kitten. I’ll be by your side, after all.” Kou met Yui’s frightened eyes and shot her a sweet smile to put her at ease. “I’ll protect you. So… it has been a bit boring with all this rain lately. Shall we do some nightly exploration of the school for ourselves so we can figure out the truth behind the rumours?” 

“What?!”

“Come on, let’s go!”

“W-wait a minute! Where are we going?”

Kou, who would not have taken ‘no’ for an answer either way, grabbed Yui’s hand and hurried pulled her along, down the hall. He swiftly dodged the students who were already starting to head home at this hour.

“W-wait! Slow down…”

“But there’s no time like the present, right? Besides, if we don’t hurry, my fans will only try to pull me aside. Let’s go to the others quickly!”

Kou led her in the direction of a far-away third-year classroom.

When the two of them walked through the door, the other Mukami brothers were already there. Yuma was straddling a chair, Azusa lingered by the window, and Ruki stood leaning with his back against the wall, his arms crossed. 

“Hi, everyone! Sorry to keep you waiting. I brought our little Kitten!”

“You’re late, Kou. I was this close to goin’ home, even though you urged us to stay here ‘n wait.”

The discontent was plain on Yuma’s face. Kou muttered a half-serious apology to him and let go of Yui’s hand.

“Eve… did you run on your way here? You sound… out of breath…” Azusa tilted his head slightly to the side in concern for Yui.

“I’m okay, Azusa. Thank you.”

“Kou… If you need something from us, why gather us on campus?”

“Hehe. That’s because I need you all to be at school for this, ” Kou said, still beating around the bush.

Ruki glared daggers at his brother. Knowing he could not hold it off much longer, Kou decided to explain the situation.

“I was talking with Kitten about this earlier, but I heard an interesting story and I’d like you to know about it too! Have you heard the rumour that a ghost is haunting the school?”

“The one that’s making strange noises at night? I heard my classmates talkin’ ‘bout it.” Yuma clearly just wanted to know what mischief Kou was up to, making the blonde’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

“Oh, so you already know. Word certainly travels fast among the third-years.”

Ruki had a glaring suspicion about Kou’s intentions and decided to drive the point home before his brother could do it himself. “I suppose you weren’t going to ask us to look for the ghost with you, were you?”

“Hehe, bullseye!” Kou smiled broadly.

“Seriously? It’s just a rumour, though,” Yuma replied, sounding exasperated.

“How old are you? Don’t get so excited about this, Kou. Ghosts do not exist.” Ruki was referring to the fact that when someone dies and the moment their body perishes, a peculiar thing called the ‘soul’ perishes along with it. Ghosts were merely ridiculous fantasies; illusions invented by humans. Only ignorant children would be afraid of them… right?

However, Kou had already expected this reaction from Ruki and did not back down.

“Heh… I don’t think it’s good to decide that ghosts aren’t real without confirming anything ourselves. Right, Kitten?”

“Huh…? M-me?”

“Do you really believe this nonsense?” When Ruki turned to her, Yui instinctively straightened her spine.

“Not necessarily, but… It sounds a little scary, I think, but whether they’re actually real is another thing…”

“Kou, do you… really think the ghost… will appear? It might have just been… a trick of the mind, you know?”

“Of course I don’t believe the ghost actually exists.I don’t sense any other supernatural presences around here either, besides ourselves and the Sakamakis. Doesn’t that make you all the more interested in the hype around this ghost story?”

Ruki’s curiosity was piqued, if only a little, at Kou’s words. “Hm… You do have a point.”

It was easy to dismiss urban legends like this right away, but if there was a reality to this particular ghost story, that would change things.

“And what if people besides us are purposefully stirring up a ruckus at the academy? We can’t let that slide, right? So, I want to expose the truth behind these rumours! It won’t be fun if it’s just the four of us, though, so that’s why I brought Kitten with me.”

“I-I’m not going! Walking around the empty building at night sounds scary enough already, let alone when an actual ghost shows up…”

If the Mukami brothers could barely even make sense of the situation, didn’t that mean there was an actual chance a ghost was haunting the premises? When Yui thought of it like that, a chill ran down her spine.

“Heh, sounds fun!” Yuma put a hand on the back of the chair he’d been straddling and stood up with great vigour. “If she’s coming, I’m in, too!”

Yui was taken aback by his enthusiasm. “Yuma?!”

“I knew you’d come around, Yuma! Hey, Ruki. Please join us!”

“Alright. I do not care for ghosts, but I agree that we have to find out who’s causing all this trouble.”

“Right? Azusa, you’re coming too, aren’t you…? Azusa? Hello—?

“...”

Even as Kou’s eyes intently watched Azusa’s puzzled expression, the younger brother still didn’t answer. He raised a hand to his mouth as if in deep thought. Thinking it strange, Yui instinctively called out.

“Azusa?”

“Huh? Ah, I’m sorry… If you’re all going… then I will join you.”

“Great, that settles it! Let’s wait here for a bit until the school empties out.”

“H-hold on a second… Don’t I get a say in this?”

“Your opinion does not matter. Were you thinking of going home all by yourself, then?” Ruki said.

“Oh…” Met with four stares that left little room for protest, Yui reluctantly went along with their plans.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Several hours passed.

By the time all lights in the academy had been turned off and the emergency exit signs were the only source of light in the halls, the five began their search. The building had fallen completely silent. Only their footsteps and the distant sound of the rain outside could be heard.

Kou pulled Yui along by her hand and walked slightly ahead of the others.

“Hey, Kou… I don’t like going first.”

“Why?”

“Because it’ll be even scarier if something appears…”

“It’s okay, really! You can lag behind if you want, but something might creep up behind you.”

“L-like what?”

“Who knows? But I’m right in front of you and Ruki and the others are right behind you. Don’t you think this is the safest position for you to be in?

Though Kou encouraged Yui to move to whatever position she wanted, she felt unable to do so. She decided to quietly follow behind Kou. They had been walking around the school for a little while now, but had not noticed anything out of the ordinary yet. 

Fed up with their aimlessly walking around, Yuma began to complain. “Hey, Kou. Nothing’s happened so far.”

“You’re too impatient, Yuma. We haven’t even been walking around for that long.”

“I feel no other presences nearby, nor have I heard that particular ‘sound’ you were talking about. Do you think it’s wary of us?” Ruki whispered, frowning as he surveyed his surroundings.

“Hey… If this really is a ghost’s doing, what do we even do? It probably won’t worship us or anything…”

Ignoring Yui’s worries completely, Yuma clutched his stomach and could not keep from bursting into laughter. “Pff, haha! You dummy. Why’d it worship us?”

“Because—isn’t that what they say about ghosts? That they worship people?

“Then they’d only worship you.”

“What…?”

“They only worship people, right?”

Yui tilted her head to the side, not quite understanding what Yuma was saying right away, but Ruki filled her in.

“Because we are vampires, after all. Besides, I don’t understand why you would be afraid of something as abstract as ghosts.”

“But… You never know! They might worship vampires too!”

While Yui desperately clung to her theory, Azusa and Kou decided to rub salt in the wound. 

“I think… we’re stronger than ghosts, though...”

“I know, right? I think they’d be repulsed rather than worship us.”

“Ah…” With nobody agreeing with her, Yui felt her position becoming more and more vulnerable. On top of being forced into this situation, she was the only one who was actually scared. 

Kou watched her intently, an almost reproachful expression on his face. “Oh, this won’t do. Even if you pout at me that way, I’ll just think you’re cute. But hey, I’ll protect you whatever happens, so stay calm, alright?” He winked at her in a way only an experienced idol could.

When Yui thought about it, being surrounded by four vampires—former humans, but still—probably was the safest position for her to be in, oddly enough. There was no way vampires would lose to an intangible ghost.

However, precisely because they were dealing with something intangible made it difficult for Yui to suppress her nerves. She desperately fought to keep the fear from overtaking.

The five walked around for a little while longer, Yui securely in the middle, but nothing happened.

“This is weird… Maybe it really is wary of us, like Ruki said. I wonder if it doesn’t like being ganged up on by a large group of people.”

“How about we split up then?”

“Right! If we go in small groups, the ghost might be more motivated to come out.”

“What…?! I don’t like the idea of splitting up.”

“We’re not asking for your opinion. That said, you would be in trouble if we left you alone, so… Yuma?”

Yuma looked puzzled when Ruki called his name. “Huh? What, Ruki?”

“Keep her company. If one of us goes with her, we’ll be able to swiftly deal with any unforeseen situations.”

“Yeah, true… Alright, Kou. We’re switchin’.”

Kou complied with Yuma’s demand, though the displeasure was clear on his face. The blonde might have rebelled against this change if Yuma had been the one to ask, but Ruki’s orders, on the other hand, were simply to be followed.

“Ah, what a shame. I was looking forward to holding hands with Kitten for a little longer.”

Kou reluctantly let go of Yui’s hand and surrendered his spot to Yuma.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After that, Yui and Yuma split up from the rest of the group and began exploring the school anew.

It’s so quiet when it’s just the two of us walking around… Not feeling brave enough to speak up, Yui kept quiet and followed Yuma. I hope we can meet up with the others soon… If the ghost comes out now, I wonder if we’ll make it to them if we run.

“Hey, Sow… Why’re you shufflin’ behind me the entire time? Go out in front.”

“What?! N-no! I can’t!”

“There ain’t no way in hell that ghost is real, so no need to be such a scaredy-cat. You’re only makin’ yourself look more like an idiot.”

“I-I don’t care if I look like an idiot…! Some things are meant to be feared!”

“Ha! There ya go again… If I wanna leave , I’ll leave!”  As if to get the irritation out of his system, Yuma banged his fist against the wall beside him. 

Yui’s eyes snapped shut for a brief moment, but she did not flinch when she returned Yuma’s gaze, his face suddenly much closer than before.

“But…”

“But what?”

“Don’t you think… if vampires exist, then ghosts might exist too?”

“Hm… Sounds pretty funny comin’ from you, but nah, they don’t exist.” One corner of Yuma’s mouth curved upwards into a mocking grin. He let out a laugh. He seemed pretty convinced that ghosts were not a thing of this world.

CLATTER—!

“...!”

A clattering sound suddenly came from one of the classrooms. It startled Yui, making her tremble. “That wasn’t… in my head, was it?”

A lick of ice-cold fear slid down Yui’s spine. She quickly hid behind Yuma.

“You… Why’re you hiding? You’ve got some guts usin’ me as a shield.”

“B-but…” She could not find the words to speak—she was simply too scared. She crouched in on herself behind Yuma in an effort to hide.

The sound seemed to have come from the empty, unused classroom near them. It was pitch-black. Nobody seemed to be inside.

“I’m gonna go look.”

“What?! W-wait, Yuma!”

Yuma ignored Yui’s pleas and opened the door to the classroom. He thoroughly inspected the room, but still, there was not a soul in sight. As though expecting someone to be hiding, Yuma set foot into the classroom.

“Y-Yuma, don’t! It’s dangerous!”

“Ha! You’re scared shitless, aren’t ya? Just wait here. I’ll only have a quick look inside.”

The only thing coming in from outside was the sound of the rain. Not even a sliver of moonlight fell into the room. The ominous darkness gradually swallowed Yuma’s form whole as he walked farther away.

Oh no… If something comes out at me, I’ll…

Yui’s heart hammered against her ribcage, and just when her eyes inadvertently fluttered closed—she felt something brushing up against her leg. Goosebumps rose on her skin. She couldn’t keep her voice from leaking.

“Eek!”

Yuma rushed back when he heard her cry out, but still found no traces of anything lurking in the shadows close to where Yui was standing, nor in the deserted classroom. 

“Damn, don’t scream like that! I thought somethin’ happened!” 

“B-but… something… touched my leg…”

“What?! What the hell was it?”

In the end, the two never figured out what it could have been. The sky, still clouded with heavy rain, slowly started to become brighter.

“Shit. It’s close to mornin’ already. Hey, Sow? We should get back to Ruki ‘n the others. We’re done for today.”

“For today? You don’t mean…” A heavy sense of dread fell upon Yui, but she did not need to finish her sentence. 

The anxious look on her face made Yuma’s lips curl up into a sadistic smile.

“We’ll be back for round two tomorrow.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next night, Yui was accompanied by Azusa on their rounds through the school hallways. Yui kept a tight grip on Azusa’s left arm and had no intention of letting him go.

“Eve… If you hold on to me like that… it’s a bit difficult to move…”

“Oh! I-I’m sorry, Azusa! I’m still not quite used to this…”

“...”

“Azusa?”

“Ah… What is it…?”

Yui was even more unsettled by Azusa’s restlessness. He’s been lost in thought the entire time, she thought. 

“Hey, Azusa? Is something wrong…? You haven’t seen the… g-ghost, have you?”

“Huh? Oh, no… I haven’t.”

“Ah… That’s a relief.”

“Are you… really that scared? Then… here.”

“Huh…?”

Azusa came to a halt and pulled Yui into a hug with his other arm, gently patting her back as he whispered into her ear. “Eve… I’m here with you. Even if something comes after you… I’ll protect you. But… are you maybe worried… that it’s just me…?”

“No, not at all… Thank you. I think I might be a little less scared now.”

“I’m glad… to make myself useful.” Azusa smiled softly, but then his gaze quickly shifted to the window.

He really is worried about something… I wonder what’s gotten into him…

Once again, the night ended without them coming any closer to finding the source of the strange sound.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Along came the third night of exploring the academy.

Carefully calculating when the building would empty out, the five once again split up and made their rounds. The never-ending rain had abated into a drizzle for a brief moment, but before long, it was pouring once again. The weather showed no signs of letting up.

“It really won’t stop raining. It would be nice to be able to see the moon, though…”

The night sky was covered by heavy rain clouds. Yui had been looking out of the window while she was walking down the hall, but in the meantime, Ruki—who had been right next to her only a moment earlier—had already put several steps in between them. Yui half-ran to catch up to him.

“You seem awfully careless today. Have you already overcome your fear of ghosts?” 

“N-not exactly, but… This is the third day already, so it’s getting a little… Ah!”

Maybe Yui’s attention slipped because she was relieved to walk beside Ruki again, as she suddenly stumbled and nearly fell over. Ruki immediately extended his arms, swiftly catching Yui and keeping her from falling.

“T-thank you…”

“If you let down your guard like that, bad things will happen—like this, for example.”

“Huh…?”

The ominous tone of Ruki’s voice caught Yui’s attention. She tilted her face upwards to look at him.

Ruki looked pointedly somewhere behind her, nodding in the same direction as if to urge her to do the same. Yui’s hands were braced on his upper arms as he held her, and her grip only tightened at the thought of something being at her back.

“I-is something there?” 

Yui was hit by an indescribable wave of anxiety. Her breath involuntarily caught in her throat, but she bolstered her resolve and gingerly looked over her shoulder. 

There was nothing but the long, dark, gloomy hallway stretching out behind her.

“N-nothing’s there, right? Wait, were you… Huh…?”

“You said you’d gotten used to it, right? I figured I’d test you. It seems like you don’t have your fear under control just yet, though.”

“Ah…!”

Yui’s cheeks flushed bright red. Had Ruki really been toying with her, even though he knew she was scared?

“That’s not fair…! You can’t just play with me like that… I’ve gotten a little more used to walking through the dark hallways, but you know I’m scared of ghosts…!”

Yui crouched down on the ground, her face between her knees, both mortified and scared beyond her wits. Any regular male student might have been worried, might have tried to calm her down, but Ruki showed no signs of showing her such kindness.

“Don’t make a fuss. How long are you going to sit like that? If you don’t feel like moving, I’ll leave you here.” Quickly dismissing Yui’s worries, Ruki did not bother to cast her another glance and began walking away.

“Oh… W-wait up!”

Not knowing where to direct her fear and frustration with being ignored, Yui’s head was full of chaos. Still, she would not be able to bear being left alone like this, and so she hurried back to Ruki.

Yui felt herself grow stiff while she walked behind him. Just then, a strange sound reached her ears.

“...Did you hear that?”

“It came from that classroom. Do you want to check it out?”

It was a different sound from the one she had heard with Yuma the day before yesterday. This one clearly sounded like someone was rummaging around… and it kept going.

“Ruki…”

“There’s definitely someone here.”

Ruki opened the door to the classroom with great force.

The moonlight did not quite reach the room because of the heavy rain—it was darker than the hallway had been—and the unoccupied desks and chairs were nothing but eerie silhouettes. 

When Yui’s eyes had gotten used to the darkness, though, she saw someone standing there with her back to her—someone familiar. Recognition struck her.

“Huh… Azusa?” The words just slipped out.

At Yui’s surprised voice, Azusa slowly turned around to face them. He looked just as surprised to see them. “Eve… Ruki…” 

“Azusa? What are you doing here?” Ruki took a step forward and had barely finished speaking…

And then, it happened.

“Found you—!”

Yui looked in the direction of the voice reverberating through the hallway, she spotted Kou running towards them. Their eyes met. Kou raised his voice as if he’d known all along how this would end.

“Grab it, Kitten!”

“What?!”

Yui followed Kou’s finger pointing ahead. A small, black shadow darted out in front of him. Kou had clearly ordered her to catch it, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it right away. While she stood there hesitating for a moment, the black shadow collided with her chest on its own.

Out of sheer reflex, Yui wrapped her arms around it immediately. It felt heavier than she’d thought, and softer to the touch. The unexpected sensation almost made her drop it, but she regained her posture and held it tightly.

“Nice catch, Kitten!”

Kou was out of breath, having run at full speed, as he pointed at the black lump in Yui’s arms. “That’s… the cause… of the ghost story… the source of the sounds… is that cat.”

Yui suddenly realised she was holding a black cat. Its tail pointed upwards, the fur fluffed up as it eyed Kou suspiciously. In an effort to calm down the evidently upset cat, she gently stroked its back. “It’s okay… Don’t be scared…”

“Wow… Have you seen the way it’s staring at me?” Kou breathed. 

“Isn’t that because you were chasing it?”

“I had to! Of course it’s going to run if someone tries to catch it.”

“Hey, hey! What’s with all the—what the fuck! What’s that black thing?”

Yuma burst into the room after having heard the commotion. Yui had only just managed to calm down the cat a little, but in response to Yuma’s voice, the black cat’s tail fluffed up again.

“Whoa, that’s a pretty rough-lookin’ cat… But wait, what’s a cat doing on campus?”

A nod from Ruki confirmed his brother’s unspoken suspicions. “If this cat is the cause of the ghost story going around, I wonder how it managed to sneak into the academy and cause such an upheaval.”

If the cat had snuck in while the students and teachers were on campus, it could not have gone unnoticed. The fact that nobody was aware of a cat on campus must mean that it had snuck in sometime late at night, when the school was already empty.

However, that still begged the question how it came in. The campus was built in such a way that it seemed unlikely for the cat to have come inside easily. If that was the case, maybe someone had purposefully lured the cat inside and hidden it from everyone…

How did this little one even get here…? Yui was at a loss as she stared at the black ball of fur in her arms, but the only response she got from it was a loud meow.

Azusa, who had been quiet up until now, suddenly joined the conversation. “I’m sorry… Actually, this cat… is here because I was… looking after it…” He apologetically raised his right hand.

“Huh? Azusa, you’ve been taking care of this cat…?”

“Yeah… I’ll talk you through what happened…” Azusa began explaining the origins of the ghost story and how the cat had infiltrated the school. “About a month ago… I found this cat in the school courtyard, but…”

Azusa’s story went something like this: one day, he had found a weakened black kitten. He had given it something to eat and soon began to look after it. Even after it had mostly recovered, the heavy rain continued to fall, and Azusa had felt the need to keep checking in on it out of sheer worry. 

As he suspected, the cat had fallen ill again after a while. Azusa had pitied the little black cat and made sure to gently stroke it and talk to it. Eventually, he brought it to this classroom so he could take better care of it.

“Oh, Azusa, you’re too kind,” Kou said, carefully approaching the cat so as to not startle it, and petted it. The cat seemed to have gotten a little more used to him. It was more docile now, allowing Kou’s gentle touch.

“That’s not… true… In the end, I only… ended up scaring the cat…”

“What do you mean?”

“When the cat became healthier… I got a little careless… After it escaped from this classroom where I’d been taking care of it… I lost track of where it went…”

“So that means this cat roamed the school at night, and the kids mistook the sounds it made for a ghost… and that led to the ghost story?”

Azusa nodded in response to Yuma’s question. “I think those sounds… must have been the cat running away or playing around… and when I couldn’t find it for a while… it must have been hiding somewhere… because it was scared…”

“Yeah, that’s fair… It’s pretty scary to be chased around, after all.”

Kou nodded exaggeratedly, but the brothers’ reactions were pretty mild overall, as though these kinds of things happened on the regular. Yui thought it strange, but tried to gloss over it by shooting Azusa one more question.

“The students were talking about an ‘arm wrapped in bandages’ poking out from the darkness… So that was…”

“Yeah… They must have seen… me. As soon as I heard the rumours about the ghost… and knowing about the cat, it just clicked… so, lately… I’ve been looking for it by myself…”

“Ha… so that’s it. That ghost story was brought to life just ‘cause of Azusa and this black cat.”

“Good grief… You certainly caused trouble.”

With all questions answered, Yuma and Ruki looked even more exasperated than before.

“Azusa… Of all places to take care of a cat, you should not have done it at school. If you’d just taken it home, it wouldn’t have caused such a stir.” (2)

“I thought it might… bother you…”

“Well, that’s Azusa for you. But this wouldn’t have inconvenienced us at all! We’re brothers, right?” Kou said light-heartedly in an effort to cheer up Azusa, whose eyes were downcast.

“Of course. Don’t be so reserved, Azusa.”

Touched by the kindness of his brothers, Azusa smiled cheerily. “Yeah… Thank you, all of you…”

“So, uh… What do we do with the cat?” When Yui handed the cat over to Azusa, it began loudly purring in his arms.

“How about we bring it home with us?”

“I don’t mind either.”

The cat could suffer a grim fate if we leave it here like this and someone else finds it… What if it becomes weak again? What if it dies?

“Ruki… Would it be alright if we took it home?”

Everyone’s eyes naturally shifted to Ruki.

“We can’t decide that so easily. If the cat belongs to someone who lives somewhere around the campus, shouldn’t we return it to its home? Don’t they say that dogs tend to be attached to their masters, and cats are attached to their homes?”

Ruki had a point, but Kou was not yet convinced, especially seeing how Azusa felt for the cat he’d been taking care of for so long. “But look how attached it is to Azusa…”

“Thank you, Kou… I’m alright… The cat’s happiness is… the most important, after all…”

“Well, if Azusa’s fine with it, then I’m fine with it… Ah, I’m so tired from chasing the cat. Hey, Kitten. Can I lay my head in your lap (3) when we get home?”

“What?!”

The subject of the conversation shifted from the cat to something else so quickly that it almost gave Yui whiplash. 

When Yuma joined in as well, it became even more confusing. “Hey, Kou. You’re not the only one who’s tired! You don’t get to keep all the fun for yourself.”

“But I worked really hard, you know? Don’t you think I deserve to ask for a small reward?”

“I don’t. I ran pretty damn hard myself! Hell, I was the only one who actually ran.”

“What? How do you know? I definitely ran the hardest!”

“Nah, I did!”

“I’m telling you, I did!”

Kou and Yuma’s bickering escalated quickly, neither of them realising their fight was getting farther and farther away from the issue at hand.

“Christ, this is not worth fighting over.”

“But… it’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

Ruki averted his eyes, clearly fed up with his brothers’ antics, while Azusa warmly watched over the two.

It would be nice if they forgot about the laying–his-head-in-my-lap thing, too… Yui thought. When her gaze flicked to the window, she noticed that the rain that had plagued the city, pouring incessantly for days on end, had let up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A little while later, the black cat left the campus, and the ghost story that had haunted the academy quickly receded into the students’ and teachers’ memories.

THE END

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

家鳴（やな）り：Lit. the ‘rattling of a house,’ meaning things like creaking windows, the air vents, the sounds you sometimes hear when the walls or window panes expand due to moisture or heat, things like that.

Not a translation note but Ruki, sir, with your history of ‘taking care’ of cats, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea…

膝枕（ひざまくら）: Lit. ‘knee/lap pillow,’ meaning to use someone’s lap as a pillow, laying your head in someone’s lap.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Hi! Hope this is alright to ask. Pretty much I am trying to figure out what draws me to whump, and I feel a bit out of place when I try to find answers. I've been through traumatic experiences before and a lot of times I've heard that people cope by putting characters through traumatic experiences but then give them comfort or a happy ending as a way to take your power back/rewrite your personal life story. Personally I don't resonate with that because I don't always include comfort. But at the same time I do feel like I'm using whump writing to cope somehow... I'm just not sure how? Like when I look up articles on 'writing therapy' a lot of what comes up has to do with 'giving the characters the happy ending you would have liked for yourself' but again, I can't really relate. Plus, I also consume whump. Lately a show I'm watching has had one character go through a lot of whumpy scenes and it's sparked an interest in me, like I rewatch those scenes a bunch of times and now have an interest in writing that specific character going through pain when I had never considered that before. And it's also caused my mind to 'branch out' I guess, and get more ideas for what kind of whump I'd want to include in my own writing. Even though I've been interested in whump for a while already, this is really the first time canon whump scenes have drawn me in so much. I know I don't really have to justify liking whump to anyone and some people simply just like it, but in my case, I do feel like it's deeper than that and I just don't know what some possible explanations could be? Thanks if you're able to offer some insight!

Ah, glad you’ve found us here on the Tumblr Dot Com, my dude!

I’m kind of the same way, honestly. I’m mostly in it for the physical sensation (which is cozy and warms me up like a hot cup of tea on a cold, rainy day). It may very well be that whump is a brain chemistry thing that some people are just predisposed to (like how some people feel tingles when listening to AS/MR while others don’t). (I also experience tingles by the way… I know correlation doesn’t equal causation, but hm… it might be worth researching [nudges the psychology academics])

But I do also feel a level of emotional attachment to certain types of whump (particularly if a character is crying or screaming). For me, I like watching/reading those kind of scenes because that’s the only time I react in a “normal” way to sad and/or messed-up things; because I’m usually alone when I do this, so I don’t feel I have to hide what I feel from others. Everything comes to the surface and it’s very nice.

Or sometimes I’m just down in the dumps and I decide to stare at Gilbert Kane writhing on the dinner table for the eight-millionth time and go “Damn I wish that were me.” But like in a very normal, catharsis-seeking way… I don’t have a death wish.

So it could be an emotional expression thing(?) Or (if you’re into the more, eh, one-on-one Whumper/Whumpee dynamic) it could also be seeking validation that what people did to you was, in fact, Very Bad… or not idk.

Or, you could just have a fascination with the weird, disturbing, and gross, which manifests itself in a love of whump. This could be indicated by your other interests.

Or, you could just enjoy seeing variations on a theme; what writers do differently or the same as each other. I know I love binge-watching an actor’s work for a year (or three lmfao) and studying their mannerisms and micro-expressions. I also love picking apart imagery and wording in written pieces. So, it could just be a different type of “Love of the Craft,” so to speak?

Or, it could be an outlet for anger. Sometimes it is for me, but usually it isn’t the case. But generally, when I feel like throttling a person and cracking their skull open like a pistachio shell, I find a whump blogger with open asks and do horrible things to their OCs. I squeeze them like stress balls. Didn’t ask. Don’t care. [violence] [violence] [violence]

Anyway, thank you for asking me! Have fun and keep whumping.

(Autocorrect almost changed “whumping” to “whipping.” Very off-topic, I know… but so, so on-brand djdjdjdjdjdndndn help I’m laughing now)

[secretofblue]

So, I opened this acc just a few days ago and since then I've been wondering what my first post should be like, and after a long think, I figured out it would be good to start by introducing myself so, here I go...

Hi! i'm blue, that its not my real name but for some reason I took that nickname to my online persona a looong time ago and now i'm really attached to it.

Currently i'm 22 yo

INFP

English its not my first language (spanish is), so expect a lot of grammar mistakes lol

College student

I like a lot of things, few of my favorites are biology, anatomy, physiology, the moon, reading, learning languages, learning new things in general, being alone, drawing, rainy days, long walks, road trips

I think I rather tea over coffee

I consider myself a cat person but i love all kind of animals

I enjoy a lot listening to music, some of my favorite artist are: chase atlantic, the neighbourhood, p!atd, blackbear, halsey, melanie martinez, lana del rey, the 1975, troye sivan, taylor swift, selena gomez

Also i'm really into kpop my favs are: bts, ateez, txt, enhypen, new jeans, le sserafim and ive

I casually listen to tokyo hotel, envyyou, palaye royale, yungblud, conan gray, hayley kiyoko, always never, hey violet, &team, tripleS, mamamoo, taemin

disclaimer! - I think its important to note that i'm not aware of the life or career of every single one of these artirst, so if they've made something problematic please know that I don't support their actions

I do reallyyy enjoy watching cartoons, my favorite genre are fantasy/mystery/adventures, kind of like gravity falls, hilda, the howl house, star vs the evil forces (if you have any recs please drop it here)

I like anime, but i havent really watched a lot

I'm in love with spookycore since I was a child (I don't know if something like this exist or if I just made up the word but i hope you get what I mean 😭)

I like watching series but i'm super bad at it

This is not my first acc here on tumblr but its the first time that I will try to active use it

I think that's all the important things that come to my mind right now but if i remember or new things pop into my life I will add it here.

If you have any questions, you can always hit that button (that btw i still dont know how to edit it for it to say something hilarious like some of yours here does)

Finally, if someone reached this far, thanks for reading! :) 🍃

[writing-in-lesbian]

Haunting my Dream(s)

Synopsis: You met Natasha when she was living in Ohio. She was your best friend (maybe more) and you were hers. Everything was perfect until one day she disappeared from your life, breaking both of your hearts in the process. That night was when the dreams started. 24 years later and you can't get her out of your life. Maybe it's time you actually pay attention to your dreams. Pairing: Natasha Romanoff / Female reader. Tags: angst Disclaimer: I don’t own Black Widow or anything Marvel related. Word Count: 4.3K

I have always liked rainy days. For as long as I can remember, these types of days have held an attraction for me, it’s as if the cold and the gray clouds called me and asked me to listen to their stories. Most of the time they came to me consciously and lucidly in the daytime world.

To say those cold gray days did not put me in a nostalgic and longing feeling would be a lie. Longing for her, for the past, for the thousands of questions that remained unanswered, the hidden truths buried in the depths of my mind and my being.

Sometimes those days were torturous, reminding me of what I lost, a person that my mind tried to lock in that place where painful memories end. That comfort that usually came with the witnesses of the rain, like the smell of the grass and the wet earth, from time to time becoming my own prison, trapping me in a labyrinth of memories suppressed and assumptions.

Despite that, the rain called me like a jealous lover to the dreamlands, where I would know undoubtedly, from time to time, she would be there, patiently waiting for me.

I had never allowed myself to speak consciously about her until today, 24 years after the dreams began.

For years I did not question the meaning of it, I sought consolation thinking that it was just a feeling of longing for my "Best Friend", that feeling you have when you think you lost something good without explanation.

Or maybe it had an explanation. I don’t know.

The first time I dreamed it, it caught me off guard. Over the years, that dream became recurring and at some point, a refuge.

The set up and places always changed. A hotel, a restaurant, a shopping center, a beach, the cabin in the mountains, our old school, a clubroom, a field, her backyard ... and so I could go on with the list.

Physically she does not look like the person I remembered. It was someone else face, her skin was different and her eyes weren't the shade of green I remembered, but it was her. I know it was her, her essence is unique.

Sometimes she is taller than me. Other times (most of them) she is slightly shorter than I am. We are normally the same height.

It always happens the same way:

I find myself talking with a group of people, friends who correspond to the moment in my life in which I find myself. Friends and acquaintances, teachers and family, love interests that only appeared once and faded from my attention after she arrived. In hindsight I think that must have been my second biggest sign.

I am always in the middle of a conversation on any topic that, in the same way, resembles the point in my life where I found myself, such as high school, the next exam, the final presentation, the thesis, my recruitment, the mission. A good time, good company, but the weather is always cloudy, sometimes with a few small drops, most of the time with torrential rain.

Suddenly, my eyes and attention are diverted to someone who is approaching the group of people I am with.

"Natasha"

Her name resounds between the drops hitting the glass and the thunder that echoes in the distance. It’s like a whisper that should be imperceptible but in my mind it’s the only clear thing that I heard. Strong enough to silence the sounds of people around me and escapes my lips like a forbidden breath.

"Natasha"

I had not dared to pronounce it since our separation, a little over 12 months ago... But you should not take it for sure. There are things that my mind had blocked and was trying to avoid, so I may be wrong with the time.

She walks to us and greet us like it's a common thing. She greets everyone with a kiss on the cheek and a short hug.

She never greets me first.

When she stands in front of me, time stops for a few seconds and suddenly my arms are on her back in a hug that makes me feel that time has not passed, as if we had stopped seeing each other for a few minutes and nothing more.

Her hands draw me to her and squeeze me tightly, I feel mine bringing her closer as well , trying to communicate things that I don't know how to express. Trying to make her feel what my 12-year-old self never knew how to express.

But it’s not necessary, in the dream only hours have passed and not a few months (or years).

I distance myself from her and look at her face that reflects my smile. That face unknown to me but that my heart knows is her. I would recognize her in any dream.

Her hand seeks my hand (or is it mine that seeks hers first?) And intertwines our fingers in endless thoughts. My logic knows things that my self does not and, on this earth, I am not allowed to know yet.

With her by my side, the conversation continues as if there hasn't been any kind of interruption. The people around me do not act strangely, even those who cannot theoretically know her do not treat her differently. That we are holding hands does not cause a blink-of an eye from no one.

At one point (or is it hours later? I don't know, the time here behaves differently) I turn to look at her. I know there are a thousand things I want to say, my mind tries to sort the train of thoughts that I would like to follow but it is impossible.

"Can we talk?"

"We need to talk"

A laugh leaves my lips hearing us say it at the same time. I don't know if we were always in perfect sync or it’s something of this context.

"Alone" I hear myself say, referring to the fact that, although we have been talking for hours (o  minutes) with the group of people we are, this talk is important and should only be between us two.

She doesn't say anything.

She never does.

She just takes my hand, says goodbye to the others making signs that we have to go. No one ever questions her, not me. They just accept it and we say goodbye as if we were going to see each other tomorrow.

We turn around and walk a couple of steps before I let go of her hand by shoving my hands into my pockets. She just laughs and keeps hers in her coat. The cold is less intense when we walk.

Every now and then my hips thrust into hers as she smiles at me. Hearing her laugh provokes things in me.

"Can we order something?"

"Of course"

I never know the destination, I think that it adapts to the scenario that my mind decided to put on this occasion. Sometimes it’s inside a classroom, other times it’s a bench surrounded by bushes, most of the times is a table in a restaurant, the furthest from everything. But there are always many people and doors to pass before we get there.

When we arrive, we sat down. I feel her gaze on me. The one that she gave me several times, that look that doesn’t express anything but I know that it held many questions, the one that observes me as if trying to guess my next movement or thoughts, as if she wanted to decipher each and every one of my deepest thoughts.

Or so I usually think.

"Let's talk"

"Do you know what we need to talk about?"

"Yes" my voice is confident, without hesitation I try to say it. "About us"

"What about us?"

"You know" you've known all this time. Probably even before me.

"And you too"

Her eyes drift to my lips, her gaze posing for a few seconds before meeting my eyes again. Unconsciously (or maybe it's the most conscious thing I do on this earth) I lick my lips and her eyes follow my movements again.

"Okay, let's talk then"

"Y/N, see you in a minute" ... ... ...

An alarm sounds and ...

Sometimes the chirp of the birds is the first thing I hear, other days it’s the same rain that, as a jealous lover, tears me away from those lands and brings me back to reality. This reality where I know that she is not with me, that we have not spoken in months (or years) and leaves me with this feeling of wanting to know about her.

For 24 years I had the same dream.

For 24 years I never paid attention to that need or that desire to want to know about her, which intensified as time passed. Sometimes months passed before dreaming of her again. Generally it was once a year.

For a long time, I convinced myself that I was not ready to see her, I was not ready to conclude that talk that the land of dreams denied me, always expelling me the moment she pronounces my name and tells me she’ll see me in a minute.

And now...

Now I am here, trying to finish a dream that started and has stayed with me for approximately 8760 days. Right now I'm a phone call away from asking her so many things, but I know it can't be like that yet.

When I looked for her after the last dream, it was because I woke up with a need like I had never felt before. It was not enough get used to the idea that you could be okay, it was not enough the few times I met you in the real world and turned around. It was not enough that time that by chance I found your file in Maria's files and went in to read it just to know that you were okay, and lose it days later. I imagine Hill figured it out.

After this dream and everything that happened with Thanos and the world, I knew that I had to stop being a coward. I looked for you for several days, they say that if you don’t want to be found, you’ll never be found. I tried various sides and people, but I always ran into walls. At some point I thought you were one of the people we lost when the snap happened, but your name was never on those lists. Just when I thought that again it was not written in my destiny to meet you again (and thinking"OK universe, if I should not find her I will understand") ... I found you.

It took me a couple of days to form a message. For a few hours just looking at your file and the number calmed me down, but something inside me demanded more, asked for more. Someone asked me if I was ready to write to you and I always replied that I didn't know. But my soul screamed to write to you, to initiate a contact and, although it took me 3 hours to write those few lines, at the end of the day I did.

"Hey Natasha, I'm Y/N, maybe this message surprises you a bit, but I don't know if it's something crazy or not (it could be), the point is that I've been dreaming about you (for several years now to be honest, always the same dream, never changes). And to be honest I had always left it alone, however, I dreamed of you last week and I woke up with this very strong urge to look for you, stronger after the decimation. Somewhat difficult if I'm honest, you really know how to hide very well Tasha, but finally something pointed me in the right direction and here I am. Anyway. I do not know if you will read this message or even if I will have an answer, I just wanted to know if you were okay, I sincerely hope you are. Y/N "

I convinced myself that was enough. I convinced my mind not to expect anything, that the message was what I needed to calm my soul, that it didn't matter if you didn't see it or even didn't respond to it. Deep, deep inside, I knew I wanted an answer from you. Which one? I don't know, just that I wanted or needed you to answer.

Although the dream was consistent for 24 years, the last two times that I dreamed it, after I wrote to you, dreamland presented me with two more versions, two new “options”. In the first I saw you, (now your physique corresponded with your essence) but I couldn't reach you. I couldn't get close to you. In the second we talk a little, we exchange 4 or 5 sentences, but never alone.

That was right before you answered me in real life:

"Today. 5 pm. Americana cafeteria"

And now ... am I really ready?

I think the answer to that is no.

You are never ready, at least not consciously. I just know that my heart and mind are finally in the same place. Thanos really did a huge number on various people. Including you.

The place she chose is brighter than I thought, for once the storm clouds don't feel as gray or heavy. This time, that halo of light is enough to illuminate our surroundings. We are at a table, there are some cups of coffee in front of us, you watch the rain fall while your hand plays with the handle of the cup, the other is resting on your cheek.

"Y/N I ... I don't know where to start"

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything right now, just ... just let me speak first, please "

"Okay"

You access without problem. I don't know if it was always like this or not, but this time you know I need it. Maybe you also need the time.

“I know exactly what you were or what you are to me. Maybe it took me 24 years to understand it, I think it was more like accepting it. I always wondered why, you know? "

You just look at me, silently asking me what I mean with your eyes. I know deep down you know it. You extend your hand that plays with the cup and took mine. For a moment I take it and play with your fingers. I want to let go but you stop me, like an anchor tying me to this reality.

And maybe that's what he needed.

“I always wondered why it had hurt so much to part with you, why I cried in the afternoons after our fight, why I couldn't just be with you. Was it a bad or forbidden thing to love you the way I did? What was it that the universe or God wanted to avoid that had to separate us? "

"Y/N"

"I know, I know, probably, well no, surely it was a lesson we had to learn though"

Her fingers intertwine with mine, one of her fingers caressing my hand, as she always did, instantly calming me down.

“I know who I am and now so many things make sense, God, it's painful to see how they didn't before. Now I understand why my relationships did not work as I thought they should, now I understand why it hurt me so much and why so many years ago I could not face you "

"Surely for the same reasons why it hurt me so much too"

I look into her eyes. Those green irises that haunted me for so many years. Even today they do.

“Telling you that you were very important in my life it’s not all you meant to me. You were my first love you know and, well what can I say so many years later? Now I understand all my feelings towards you, now I understand the intensity and innocence that we had during our relationship. It's true when I tell you that all the years that I spent without you only made me realize how much impact you had on my life. They say that the first love is never forgotten and you know what? It's true. It's so fucking true "

“I know, I couldn't forget you either. I think at some point, you became like this ghost or this shadow that did not went away from me. I guess that's why I couldn't look for you after leaving ... "

Her voice cuts out. There's no need to talk about why she unexpectedly left Ohio that day. When I entered S.H.I.E.L.D and after hearing Barton tell your name to Fury, I decided to hack the system and find out about you. Those skills were what led me to join the agency, so I thought it would be something easy. In the end I did it, but it took me a while to do it until that day I found your file in Hill's archives.

“To be honest, I was able to accept that recently. That you had been my first love. So many years I lied to myself trying to justify that I only saw you as a friend, what a fool I was "

"Silly no detka, you just weren't ... we weren't ready"

"Could be"

“I can definitely tell you that I know I felt things for you too, I can't cover the sun with a finger, but for obvious reasons I couldn't look for you and then I couldn't dare to look for you, not after everything I had done and with so much red in my ledger. I always thought of you thou, I wondered what become of your life. I guess I don't think I was ready either and with various things happening in my life ... Now, I also understand several things. I forgive you for not looking for me that night, I understood that it was something that was not in our hands"

I lightly squeeze her hand and look at her. Slowly I turn my gaze to her eyes and there it is, again, trying to decipher what is going through my head, as if trying to prepare or anticipate something. Unconsciously I moisten my lips with my tongue.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything"

"What was I, for you?"

“A watershed in my life. A pending chapter "

I don't know if it's what I expected or not. I don't even know what I wanted to hear, but her words carry a lot of weight for me. I look at our hands again, I see slowly how her other hand covers them, as if she wanted to protect them.

PENDING.

The word overwhelms me more than I ever thought. It puts me in this state of nervousness, ecstasy, uncertainty, happiness. Of everything and nothing at the same time.

Pending. Without resolving.

Pending. Unfinished.

Pending.

PENDING.

PENDING.

“I know you are gay. And there were so many things between us that it would be absurd of me to try to put you inside a label or a box. You were many things to me. I've learned that you don't need a label to feel comfortable with yourself"

She stared into my eyes as I shot her a glance, lightly squeezing her hands.

I'm here.

I'm with you.

You are with me.

You are here.

"Did you ever wonder what would have happened?"

"If you had stayed?"

She can only nod her head while looking away.

"Several times. More than I would like to admit. You?"

"Every time I thought of you"

Her hands release mine and take the forgotten cup of coffee with a slow sip. I look at my warm and dark coffee, the waves caused by the movement come and go.

"I want you to be free"

Her gaze turns doubtful, intriguing even. She leaves the cup on the table.

“You said that at one point I became a ghost or shadow. I don't want to continue being that. I want you to be free. You are too important to me and I want you to be happy. Really"

"You say it like this is the last time I will see you"

There it is. The easy way out, the conclusion of many things. If I say goodbye and get up of this chair, I will end this chapter. I can get on with my life.

But...

"It is not"

"Then?"

Her gaze seeks mine, that gaze equal to that of 24 years ago where I promised my life and she promise she would never lave. That look full of so many insecurities and fears. That look that deep down we know that we would break our promises and break both our hearts.

But this time I have the power of decision in my hands. This time I am in control.

“It’s obvious that we have a strong connection. And I think the way we ended things, that unfinished chapter, where we were and at the age we were, influenced us to unconsciously drag things along and follow us through life. So I want to free you and get rid of those ghosts"

"Y/N, what are you trying to say?"

“I want us to leave the luggage that we dragged behind. I don't want you to be my one that got away”

"Please be clear"

Clear. That word resounds like thunder fallen within the enclosure and is transformed into five simple words.

what do you want?

I want... I want... I want...

I WANT.

I WANT TO BE WITH YOU.

"I want to be with you. I want to see where this connection can take us and I definitely want to know you with the intention of being your girlfriend. I want to try this. Give us a chance to be a couple. Really"

"Detka" her words stay there. I take both of her hands between mine and lift them resting my elbows on the table.

"I know. I know there are a thousand things to fix, okay? I know. But precisely for that reason, with all the more reason we should do it. It’s clear to me that we both started with a light luggage that over the years became a mega suitcase. At least that's how it was with me ”.

"Same with me"

I smile slightly.

“I know we are not the same people we were at twelve, we have to get to know each other again. For my part I have forgiven what I had to forgive of you and myself. It took me 24 years to understand and accept it and I don't want 24 more years to go by. I'm tired of running and forcing things that I didn't understand why they didn't work. I will never be ready, whatever way I think it to be. I know that there is a great risk in all this, I know the world is in chaos and the mission to find the gems has not been easy”

Her gaze does not seem surprised at this confession.

"And still you want ... but why?"

"Because it's you. As simple as that"

Probably simple wasn't the word she expected.

There are so many complications and logical reasons to run to the other side. Definitely none of this fit with my plan to find her again, but what would life be like if all our plans went according to what we idealized?

It's so fucking ironic.

But so simple to understand.

And so, so simple.

Suddenly everything made sense.

“Sorry if it took me so many years to find you, but here I am in front of you. Closing all the past and setting us free from it. Here I am, ready to give myself to you completely. To meet us and take the opportunity. I think neither you nor I need a conventional love and let's be honest, we probably don't make sense, but don’t you wanna stop asking what if? I know that I prefer to find out"

She doesn’t say anything. For a few moments my anxiety begins to take over me. I try to count the seconds and focus on my breathing. Her hand in mine is sufficient anchor to the present.

"I am"

"You are?"

"Yes detka" There is her laugh again. The one that caused butterflies in my stomach so many years ago and today causes them elsewhere.

"Like you said, if I'm here and you're here, why don't we try?"

Four words that make it all seem simple, but probably not, but what the fuck does it matter now? The universe screamed at me many times that I should look fir her, it tried to teach me the lesson very early but my stubborn self was probably opposed to accepting the truth.

Natasha Romanoff was my first love, the first person I ever innocently loved, the first person who made me question myself. She was the first to break my heart (and the first heart I broke)

And now, after so many years, I have found her again.

I feel a slight squeeze in my hands and Natasha stands up. Before I can question anything, her lips steal mine in a kiss that has been waiting for almost 8,760 days. It's everything I could imagine. Her lips move in perfect sync with mine and just when I think it can't be more perfect, her tongue asks for access and I happily oblige.

A vibration on the table interrupts us, Natasha keeps her forehead on mine, eyes closed, savoring the moment, with a peck on my lips, she moves away from me and looks at whatever interrupted our moment.

Natasha takes my hand and with a slight tug pulls me to my feet. In reality she is taller than me by about 5 cm. Her eyes search mine.

"Ready to save the world?"

I just nod my head.

[ppnuggie]

hi hi congrats on 300 followers!!! (Imo you deserve a million but i mean everyone starts somewhere)

This ask is for the 300 follower special!!

personality :: for this part I'll put good and bad personality traits that I have

Good// I've been told that in general I'm a really nice person and that I care a lot for others,,which i do,, I'm very protective over people that I care about and love,, and will not hesitate to throw hands with somebody who disrespects them,, even if I clearly can't win in a fight,, I'm very open to people that I care about,, and I share a lot with them,, I always try to be there for people,, whether they're a good friend or not

Bad// I've also been told that I'm really gullible and will believe just about anything anyone says,, which is also true,, I tend to let myself be used as a doormat for other people,, I'm also a really needy / clingy person,, another thing is that I'm really touchy person,, not sure if that's a good or a bad thing but I put it here anyways,, especially to people I love I always feel the need to be around them and or touching them in some way,, not in the weird kind of way but touching them like holding their hand,having a hand on their shoulder, Etc,, one last thing is that im really quick to trust people,, it has faded over the years with lots of people coming and going,, but even so I am really quick to trust people

For likes and dislikes,, im not sure if you mean 'what i like in a person' or 'things you like in general', but im assuming you mean things in general

likes :: rainy days,, especially when its dark outside,, reading books about things that interest me,, binging movies/tv shows,, playing video games,, talking to my best friend for hours about literally nothing,,the smell of diesel fuel- (im not joking),,watching youtube,,drawing,,the smell of new alcohol markers,, reading tf x reader fics,,hugs,, and cuddles <3

dislikes :: when someone leaves the faucet water purifier on,, being disrupted when im focused on something,, people talking when im trying to focus,, losing my concentration,, when someone takes wayy to long to respond,, people judging me for how i look and the things I like,, not being able to be myself,,yelling,,and when someone is mean to me or my loved ones

fandom :: Transformers!! Either tfp or bayverse u can pick:)

any sort of gender preference :: male please!! Thank you:))

Also just some facts that might help: i wear glasses that always slide down my nose,, i almost never wear shoes in the house,, and i have a big bumblebee plush from g1 that i always carry with me :)

tysm !! 🥹🥹 im slowly gaining some <33 but hopefully ill reach my next goal ,, 500 followers 😎😎 also i wear glasses too but they slide down too 😭😭 i dont wear them unless im watching smt on tv tho 💀💀 i just cant see too far away ,, heres your matchup thoo !! tysm for being a follower of mine and supporting my content 🥹❤️🙏 i went with tfp with this as well :D also i do like the smell of gasoline too 💀💀 ion know why but i do ,, not that i actively participate in smelling it 💀😭

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 :

- ratchet

- breakdown

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 :

- ratchet

• whilst ratchet comes off as disinterested or grumpy most the times ,, he does have a slight interest towards you

• he does like that you care a lot for everyone at base ,, but he doesnt say anything about it

• occasionally he’ll spare you a genuine smile or two ,, not much for pda but in private moments he doesnt mind your hands all over him

• he’ll let you set on his shoulder or rest against his helm if it makes you feel better <3

• he doesnt play video games ,, but he can agree that he does love rainy days on earth ,, the soft raindrops bring him comfort and peace

• he can also relate to the losing concentration part 💀 he cant stand it

- breakdown

• hes more loud then ratchet is and more energetic then the old medic

• but it isnt much of a bad thing ,, he does tone it down when hes around you ,, taking notice of your dislike towards yelling

• he’ll definitely play games with you in his mass displaced form tho :D !!

• and for rainy days ,, he’ll take you on drives so you can experience it ,, he’ll drive slow and smooth ,, play soft music and just enjoy both of your guys’ comfort

• he will also binge movies with you ,, he is interested in what you humans come up with for entertainment anyways

• he doesnt mind touching either ,, he really loves it 🥹 he loves your affection a lot <33 so you dont gotta worry about that

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎 :

soft rain pattered against the window ,, rolling down and away from your view. the sky was a dark grey ,, the sun nowhere to be seen. warm air blew through breakdown’s ventilation ,, keeping you cozy in his alt mode as he drove slowly down the empty road.

he found out that you had enjoyed the rain ,, and soon grew to understand why. he even had a special place in his spark for the weather on earth. even if he wasnt much a fan of the cold or super hot days ,, he didnt mind the rainy weather. not only didnit provide a nice free shower but also time with you.

soft melodies played out his radio ,, strolling down the black road and going who knows where. the scenery was calm and peaceful ,, the moment you two shared would definitely be cherished.

[arbitrarycategories]

how would you rate class 1a's hero NAMES best to worst?

oh GOD. okay incoming LONG POST y'all. I have ch 45 open so I know what the names mean and EVERYTHING.

BEST HERO NAME

Rainy Season Hero: Froppy - Cute, creative, and it references her quirk! This is a great, fun hero name that is easy to remember and easier to like!

Jet-Black Hero: Tsukuyomi - Saying this name out loud makes me feel like I am in an action movie, so PLUS POINTS!! Also the kids in the chapter helpfully informed me that this name belongs to the god of the night! That's super cool!

Sturdy Hero: Red Riot - An invigorating name that I feel should have an exclamation point behind it! A good name for a good hero! Minus a few points for being a fanboy references, but it is at least a tasteful fanboy reference!

Uravity - A cute, creative pun that references both her name and her quirk! A good name!

Ingenium - A solid legacy name! A good name that references the quirk, but minus points because this name has been used before. WE know that Tensei asked Tenya to use it, but the general public won't. This may cause some confusion.

Everything Hero: Creati - Clever, creative, references her quirk, and sticks in your mind! A good name!

Petting Hero: Anima - Cute, references his quirk, and sticks in your mind! A good name!

Stun Gun Hero: Chargebolt - Creative, fun, and catchy! References his quirk without being overbearing! Decently electric! However, I feel like I have to dock points because this guy has never once used a stun gun. Sorry, Chargebolt.

Taping Hero: Cellophane - Straightforward, references the quirk, but has a ring to it! On the more boring side of catchy, but not to the point of being immediately forgettable!

Sweets Hero: Sugarman - A direct reference to his quirk, but one that makes him sound approachable and nice! It doesn't mention the strength part of his quirk, which I weirdly like.

Tentacle Hero: Tentacole - It's just a funny way to say tentacle I guess? I don't get it, but it sticks in my mind, so it can't be TOO bad of a hero name!

Pinky: This name tells me NOTHING about the hero. Also, it's based on... the color of her skin? Five years after she retires, a gossip mag is going to publish an article that calls her name "antiquated" and "racist against those with heteromorphic traits" and then that shit will never end.

Martial Arts Hero: Tailman - The pre-name bit saying "martial arts" in it is the most interesting thing about this name. A bit too direct of a reference to the hero's quirk.

Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl - While it relates to her quirk, it relates a little too closely. It's kind of boring.

Hearing Hero: Earphone Jack - This is the name of the hero's quirk. A cop-out name.

Shining Hero: Can't Stop Twinkling - This name is a whole sentence. Back to the drawing board, please!

Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight - On top of taking an hour to say, this name literally references murder, and has a nerdy fanboy All Might reference! Are you a fucking middle schooler, Dynamight sir?

Fresh-Picked Hero: Grape Juice - Evokes a certain image but does not relate to the hero's quirk except in an abstract way.

Deku - To literally everyone outside of your class, this name is an insult! You have to explain yourself to everyone you meet. Why. I understand the narrative about changing and growing and improving and reclaiming old insults but from a professional standpoint this is horrendous.

Shouto - This is your civilian name, sir. While there is a precedent, this sucks. Please pick a real name.

WORST HERO NAME

[flying-nightwing]

Fluff Alphabet - Jason Todd

Hello guys! This is my first alphabet because I saw everyone do it and i wanted in. I took this alphabet. I had a lot of fun to indulge in Jason, because well. Do I need to explain? 

Anyhow, enjoy this little thing inspired by my feelings for Jason Todd!

Disclaimer: This is my vision of the character and in no way an universal truth

Check out my masterlist in bio // pinned!

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Your eyes. Jason could get lost in them by a simple glance. They say eyes are the windows to the soul, and he found it to be very true the second he met you. He will sometimes doubt he’s worth your love, but your gaze is enough to reassure him at every turn. He also can’t get enough of that spark that lights up when he makes you laugh, it draws him in. Your eyes are so kind and loving, the rest doesn’t really matter to him.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

Let’s be truthful here, Jason is terrified of having kids. Everytime the discussion gets even close to the topic of family, he gets vivid images of his own father with him and it fills him with dread that he'll end up just like him. Then, he thinks about his lifestyle and how just being the Red Hood (or having been, as a matter of fact) could endanger his family. But I think deep down he craves having a family, having kids (whether they’re biologically his or adopted), because he’s just that natural caring person.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Continuing on that natural caring person wave, Jason will usually cuddle as the big spoon. His large frame makes it ridiculously easy for himself to wrap around you completely, and he loves to see you curled up around him, safe and comfortable in his arms. He likes to know he’s shielding you from any potential danger, it just eases his conscience. But sometimes he’ll have a bad day, or a rough patrol, and he’ll wordlessly slip in your hold in bed. It surprises you every time how small he can make himself, with his head on your chest above your heart and latched around your waist holding for dear life. Then, he’ll rely on you to make him feel safe, and he’ll fall asleep like that (he also likes when you play with his hair when he gets like that).

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Jason is insanely romantic, nobody can prove me otherwise. With the amount of novels and books he read, it would be hard not to know how to be an exemplary lover. However, doing grand gestures in public and/or expensive shits is not his style. So it isn’t rare to come back home from your job after a tough week, to see Jason lighting up candles on a rose petals covered table, smiling at you and telling you to get changed in your pajamas and relax a bit before he finishes cooking (probably one of you favourite meals, or something new he knows you’ll like to surprise you). Dancing on your building’s rooftop or driving outside the city to take a walk under the stars are also his ideas of dates. It’s always something private and meaningful and a proof Jason is a hopeless romantic.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“You are my reason to keep going on.” I believe at some point after he came back from the dead, Jason had a really hard time finding a reason to keep living (finding out he was replaced as Robin, that Batman didn’t kill the joker, etc…). He was in a really dark place and numb to everything. But then, he met you and suddenly life wasn’t so terrible. After a while, he even finds himself excited to get up in the morning (or early afternoon if he’s been on a long patrol) and smiling at random times. He wants to make an effort for you, because you deserve his best self and the least he can do is try (you still love him at his worst though, and he still can’t wrap his head around it but he’s insanely grateful for it).

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

One night, Jason woke up in sweats and screaming his lungs out. He had a nightmare where you were kidnapped and tortured by the joker the way he was; it was the first time you were the victim in his nightmares (usually it was faceless people or himself, and even sometimes his brothers. But never you). He found himself wanting to have you in his arms, needing to have you in his arms, and that’s how he knew it wasn’t just a crush anymore, that he was in deep with you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

People have this misconception that Jason is rough, judging by the everything about him. But you would have never foreseen him to be so delicate and gentle with you. He is very strong and can be rash sometimes, but with his lover, he is always careful. He has enough pain and hurt in his life there is now way he’d put the most important person in his life through that. You have to almost beg him to be rough with you, and he’ll only let go if he’s 100% sure you’re okay with it.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Absolutely. He’s not big on PDA but he always wants to hold your hand, especially in public. He can get uncomfortable if there are too many people around, and the little subconscious squeezes of your hand never fails to bring him back to reality and help him focus on you instead of feeling trapped. Also he’s afraid of losing you in a crowd, even if he’s tall and could spot you easily. So yeah, his hand in yours is a constant.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Depends on how you met really. It’s hard to say really, he might have seen you as an angel, or as a simple acquaintance until he discovered your character and you grew on him. He’s a versatile boy in the people he falls for.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Not jealous per say, but insecure. Everytime he sees you talking with someone who seems to be (subconsciously or not) flirting with you, he gets this feeling you’ll suddenly realize you could do much better than him and leave him for someone less broken, less messed up than him. It creeps in his chest and hurts like a heart attack, and it only dies down when you inevitably come back in his arms and look at him like he’s your world. Then, the storm dies and he knows he at least got one more day with you. And as much as the idea of Jealous Jason showing you who you belong to (wink wink) is appealing, I don’t think it would happen unless it has been established both of you were into that kind of foreplay and he knows for sure you’re in for the long haul with him. Then it becomes a game rather than an actual insecurity thing.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Jason’s kisses are soft and wholesome. You can feel every ounce of love and admiration he has for you, and even if they do get emotional or even dominant at some points, it’s never forecefull. Who initiated the first kiss is nebulous, I think it was more of a mutual thing than an unilateral decision. I like to think it happened in a magnet effect, where both parties met halfway because Jason is a very respectful person in general (except if you piss him off for real) and he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable by kissing you without your consent.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

It’s gotta be you. Jason, who’s afraid of saying it and getting rejected/mocked would definitely not want to get his feet wet first (what if you laugh? What if you leave?). He will show it in his way, but he’d wait for you to say the words first. But once it’s out there? Hooty hoot. He’ll say it like a mantra. He’ll never ever stop saying it at every occasion he gets. 

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

At the fair in your city. Spending the afternoon going from attraction to attraction, having fun in the small roller coaster you were pretty sure was one heavy loaded train away from toppling down. After sun down, you went from game booth to game booth, collecting small and colorful stuffed animals and eating everything sugary and fat you could get your hands onto. You were convinced you could beat the rigged shoot the duck game, and when you couldn’t, Jason stepped in and absolutely made the smug smirk drop from the guy’s face. You walked away with a giant Panda, sleepy as hell after you sugar rush, and Jason had to carry you out of the car bridal style. That picture you took on top of the ferris wheel is on his nightstand and is his favourite possession of his. 

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

No, he’s not that kind of guy. I think he’s much more into meaningful acts and gestures than buying your love. He would sometimes spoil you if the occasion came to it, but I don’t think he’d be the type to open up his wallet as a demonstration of love.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Aqua blue. No other reason than the fact it’s probably the color the most opposite to red. While he absolutely loves to see you wear red things (it drives him crazy in the sweetest way), he doesn’t want to associate you with the darkest part of him. You’re the beautiful blue to his glaring red, because you’re the best thing in his life and he wants to outline and highlight you out as much as possible.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

I don’t think he has a signature pet name, he probably uses one that fits with the object of his affections and the history he has with them. He’d also be mindful of what you like and don’t like, and adjust them accordingly. 

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Libraries. The old ones that smell of paper and leather. The ones with the shelves that climb up to the wall and the old worn seats that are just perfect to sit into and read for hours. Jason loves a calm environment and a quiet victorian library does the trick just well.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Read, cuddles, adult cuddles... ;) I think Jason likes rainy days because it gives him an excuse to spend time with you at home. He’d probably bake something in the afternoon and you might or might not turn it into a flour war, make a mess in the kitchen but make a bonding activity of cleaning it up after (he and you know when to be kids and when to be mature and you both respect the line, and that’s why it’s so fun). Rainy days are domestic days and nothing is more pure or adorable than domestic Jason. It’s a hill I’ll die on. 

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

That’s a tricky one, because when Jason spirals down he has trouble getting out by himself. But when you are down, Jason will go to hell and back to make sure you feel better. He’ll cook you your favourite thing, skip patrol to stay by your side, do a dumb tik tok dance to put a smile on your face or hear you laugh. He’d be attentive to your needs and do everything in his power to help you.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Everything. Jason is a smart boy, he’d enjoy either talking about art, or about larger questions in the universe, or maybe about the birds that made a nest outside. Jason is incredibly easy to talk to when he’s receptive to the person talking to him, and that surprises anyone who knows him on the surface or less. 

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Massages, but only by you. He trusts you, he is as comfortable as he can get with you seeing him shirtless with his scars (no professional masseur/se will ever get up close to him), and with you touching him in perhaps more sensitive or vulnerable places. He’d close his eyes and let involuntary moans when you’d unknot the tension in his muscles (and you’d secretly enjoy having such a force of nature all putty and soft under your hands). Then it’d be cuddle time and he would be relaxed as he’s ever been.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

That’s simple: you. You’re his beautiful partner, the only one he has eyes for, so the world should see how great you are. He’d find a way to place you in every conversation, whether it would be to point out that hey, you can do that too, or because he just can’t shut up about you. That earns him infinite teasing from his family on how soft he is for you, but he can’t bring himself to care because he loves you so much. 

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

Jason wanted to marry you, and you had talked about it enough as a couple that he knew you wanted it too. But he wanted to wait for the right moment and he couldn’t plan that. The proposal probably happened at an unexpected moment, like when you tried to make him soup when he got injured and ended up messing it up bad. You came back to the couch and apologized to him profusely, and with stars in his eyes he asked you to marry him. Or when one of his enemies tried to take you while taking out the trash, but you chucked the garbage bag AND the metal lid to them, and Jason got down on one knee the second you finished recounting the story, out of breath from running back inside. The wedding was a private affair (Roy was his best man) somewhere quiet and meaningful, without too many artifices or big set up. It was perfect for you two.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

This is a hard one. I feel like Jason would be into soul/jazz, in the style of Marvin Gaye, Nat King Cole or Frank Sinatra. To some extent he is a very old school person, and I believe music is one of the topics that falls into that old school side of him. It’s just a feeling, it’s how I imagine Jason. Unforgettable by Nat King Cole would be his to-go song when it comes to you. 

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

Oh yea. Jaybird’s got the ring in mind as soon as he knew you were the one. See Wedding above.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

I don’t think he’d want a pet, because he can be absent often, or he wouldn’t have enough time. But if he’d have to, he’d get a cat, I think. Walking a dog morning and night would get a little bit much, especially since sometimes he might have trouble getting out of bed after patrol. But a cat, a rescue stubborn older cat who has seen others, that would be a match. The cat would be distant at first, but one morning he’d wake up with his grump of a feline curled beside his pillow and purring, or after a rough day the cat would bring him its toy and Jason would just. Cry. Because this little creature became his friend. And it’s so pure. (Also Jason building cat trees and climbing installations for the cat? Satisfying image).

[spencers-renaissance]

you look after everyone, but who looks after you?

Summary: Penelope is sad and lonely and thinks nobody can see her struggling, but Emily does. When she shows up at her apartment unannounced, one thing leads to another, and soon a miserable evening turns into one of the best in Penelope's life.

Tags: hurt/comfort, sad penelope, angst w a happy ending, cuddling, tooth-rotting fluff, getting together, first kiss, friends to lovers

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Penelope Garcia

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

I'm imagining s5/6 penemily for this one!

Penelope's small and bright apartment is her only source of comfort tonight, and although she does absolutely everything in her power to maximise the cosiness, to feel as safe and warm as possible inside its protective walls, it still doesn't feel like enough.

She's sad, and she's tired, and a larger part of her than she'd like to admit is bitter, which is an icky emotion, and she hates more than anything that it exists inside of her but tonight, it does, and there isn't anything she can do to stamp that stubborn little flame out.

She has always prided herself on the way she acts towards others. She makes sure that people are okay, and she bakes homemade muffins and puts them on their desks with one of her colourful toys when the bad stuff is getting to them, and she gives out hugs like there's no tomorrow; that's who Penelope Garcia is, and it's something that will always be important to her, no matter what.

But sometimes— sometimes she wants her own Penelope Garcia. It's easier to cheer other people up, to make them smile on a sad and rainy day, than it is to pick herself up out of her own all-consuming, utterly inexorable funks that creep up on her every now and then. And because happiness, colour, and bright smiles are who she can't help but be, people don't always see through that facade when it's no longer an instinct but a mask.

And because she would never dream of putting her bad mood or her sadness or her heavy, weighty grief on the shoulders of anyone else, she's left on her own.

When the last candle is the living room is lit, and her favourite lamps are on; when she's taken a hot shower, and she's put on her favourite pyjamas; when she's placed the order for her dinner-for-one, she sits down slowly on the sofa and pulls her knees up to her chest, staring at the inky blackness of the one window she forgot to draw the curtains over. As she stares, the inky blackness she feels on the inside only grows until it consumes her, swirling aggressively until tears are streaming down her face, and she's choking back sobs that threaten to rip her chest in two.

She's only brought out of her miserable, desolate stupor when the intercom buzzes with a visitor that she supposes is probably the delivery man with her Chinese order. She'd fancied Indian, but it reminded her too much of the team dinners Spencer always dragged them to, and that was just a little too painful for a lonesome night like this.

"Come on up," she says into the intercom, not bothering to hide the tiredness in her voice from a stranger she'll never see again, and without waiting for a response, she sits back on the sofa, staring at the purple walls of her apartment until there's a soft knock at the door.

Almost on auto-pilot, she stands up and opens the door, and her eyes widen as she stares in shock at Emily Prentiss standing in her hallway.

"You're not the delivery man," she whispers, still staring at her with wide eyes.

Emily chuckles sadly. "No, Pen. I'm not."

Penelope nods, blinking a couple of times, very unsure of what to do next or why the woman she's secretly in love with is standing in front of her at 10pm on a Tuesday night.

"Can I come in?" Emily prompts.

"Oh, uh— yes, of course." She opens the door wide enough for Emily to slip into her warmly lit living room and takes the opportunity of Emily's back briefly turned to scrub fruitlessly at her makeup-less, tear-stained face.

"This is cosy."

"Yeah, I just reread my favourite book about Hygge."

"Hygge?"

"It's uh. It's a Danish thing." Usually, she jumps at the opportunity to talk about Hygge and all the things she'd learned from her trip to visit her Danish friend last year, but right now, she's far too tired.

Emily nods, dropping her handbag by the door and walking over to take a seat on the sofa. "Come sit."

Penelope obeys and curls up in the opposite end to Emily, pulling a blanket over her lap and cuddling into it in another vain attempt to cheer herself up. Still, when pretty candles and the promise of takeaway can't make her happy, there really isn't much hope.

They stare at each other for a couple of minutes before Emily speaks, leaning forward a little. "How are you feeling, Penelope?"

Penelope blinks. "I'm fine."

Emily smiles, and again, it's sad. "No, Pen. How are you really feeling?"

She continues staring but doesn't say anything in response.

Emily scoots a little closer on the sofa. "Listen, I've watched you over the last couple of days. I know you're having a hard time, and I know that you won't say anything to anyone because you're brave and strong and quiet in your suffering. You look after everyone, Penelope, but who looks after you?"

Immediately at hearing those words, her face crumples, and she descends into the tears she'd only just managed to stop moments earlier. This time, though, the sobs she'd been choking back spillover, wracking her shoulders as she hugs her knees to her chest, desperate to hold herself together as she completely falls apart.

"Oh, Pen." Emily moves even closer and pries Penelope's hands away from her knees until she's able to guide her into a hug. Penelope usually tries to keep her physical distance from Emily, too scared of what she'll do if given a chance to touch her, but right now, she can't help but bury her face in her neck and cling on to her for dear life as Emily holds her back just as tightly.

"Shh, you're okay, honey," she soothes quietly, running her hand up and down her back gently as she lets Penelope fall apart in her arms. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

She says everything Penelope needs to hear as she cries herself out, sobs eventually receding to tired sniffles as she pulls away from Emily slightly, a little embarrassed of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cry on you like that."

Emily brings a hand to her chin and lifts her face gently until she's looking directly into Emily's warm, kind brown eyes. "You have nothing to apologise for, okay? I'm just sorry you've been having such a rough time and haven't had anyone to talk to about it."

Penelope nods, still embarrassed that she fell apart so easily but feeling soothed and comforted by Emily's warm words and gentle hands.

Just then, the buzzer goes again. "That's, uh, that's my dinner."

"Ah," Emily says, nodding in understanding. "Is that who you thought I was?"

Penelope looks away sheepishly. "Yeah."

"That explains the abrupt invitation upstairs," Emily says, smiling at her as she gets off the sofa and buzzes the courier up. "You mind if I stick around while you eat?"

"No! Please— please stay," she says, hating the desperation that bleeds into her voice.

"Okay, I'll stay, of course I will," Emily promises, rushing to soothe her again as she hears the agitation and distress in Penelope's voice. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Penelope nods gratefully. "You can even have some of my eggrolls," she says, managing a little smile as she references the well-known fact that Emily despises eggrolls and makes such a big, dramatic deal out of it every time any of them order Chinese.

Emily laughs, her head tipping back a little. "You're so generous."

She opens the door for the delivery man and takes the bag from him, before bringing it over to the coffee table and laying it out in front of Penelope.

"You should eat up, sweetie," she says in that kind, concerned way of hers as she comes to sit next to her on the sofa, "I'm sure that crying took it out of you, hm?"

Penelope nods tiredly and tucks into her dinner as Emily flicks through the TV channels before settling on a rerun of Will & Grace. They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as the familiar sound of a 90s laugh-track sitcom fills the room and Penelope eats her dinner.

"You need another hug?" Emily asks once she's finished her food and is inching closer on the sofa, and Penelope might be delusional but she swears she sees an inkling of hope on her face, so she doesn't hesitate in nodding.

Emily beams and pulls her closer, arranging them until they're lying horizontally on the sofa, comfortably tangled up in one another, idly watching the TV while they enjoy the comfort of one another's company.

"Pen?" Emily whispers, after a good couple of episodes; after most of the tealights Penelope had lit earlier have burned themselves out. "You know I love you right?"

There's something in her voice that makes Penelope feel brave. "Yeah," she whispers back, burying even closer into her side. "I love you, too, Emily. More than you know."

The last four words are uttered with a weight the fragile air in the room can't hold, and they crash back down between them, making Emily shift to look at her properly. Her face is a myriad of earnest emotions, and Penelope can't look away.

"When I say I love you," Emily says, nerves and anticipation and hope in the whisper of her voice, "I mean it. I don't— I don't love you like a friend, Penelope. I love you more than that."

Penelope stares at her, her heart pounding in her chest as she looks at the woman lying next to her, anxious, hopeful features illuminated by soft candlelight.

"I love you more than that, too."

Emily's nervous features smooth into something warm and eager and happy. "You do?"

Penelope nods, and she's sure her face holds a similar expression. "I do."

"Can I kiss you?" Emily whispers, lifting her hand to rest in Penelope's blond, tangled hair.

"Please," she whispers back, and not a second later she's being kissed like she's never been kissed before; like the ocean's dried up and she's the last gulp of water to be found; like all the world's oxygen's disappeared, and she's the only gasp of fresh air left behind. She's kissed like she is Penelope Garcia and that is enough for Emily Prentiss, she's kissed like she doesn't need anything else but to exist in this moment, right here, right now.

She doesn't want it to end, but when it does, when they've pulled away and their faces are inches apart and they're breathing heavily, when she looks into Emily's eyes and sees everything she's always wanted to find in them, she's glad it did, because the first kiss ending means that they can do it again.

Yes, I'm gonna keep writing that Penelope is very invested in Danish culture okay, it's my fav headcanon, leave me alone. I hope you liked this one! <3

taglist: @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @reidology @spencerspecifics @hotchedyke @marsjareau @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @sapphic-stress @wifeyprentiss @cmily @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist here!)

[batfoonery]

Crafty Batkids

Literally. Just batkids doin' crafts. As someone who does..... way too many crafts to list here (I'll send a list if asked but just trust me) I feel like I've gotten a good feel for this.

Dick

My man grew up in a circus, regularly checking ropes and tensions....

Macrame. He's a pro at macrame. Maybe he doesn't do it often, but like. For his friends, he'll sometimes surprise them with lil gifts.

When any of his Titans buds move he makes them those fancy hanging macrame plant holders. Donna and Kori both love them, and have been known to fight over them during white elephant/dirty Santa type gift games.

Probably doesn't have the ability to sit still for long periods of time, so can't do anything that'll unravel if he puts it down. It takes him a long time to finish a project, so he really only buys materials as he starts a new one, and doesn't have any excess stuff lying around his apartment.

Jason

You cannot tell me he doesn't crochet to unwind. Like. Idk if he's any good at it, but he def angry crochets.

Probably has been working on one scarf for like five years

Never has consistent stitches

Likes touching all the yarns at the store

Probably just enjoys squishing the yarn in general tbh. It's slightly more satisfying than ever actually doing anything with the yarn.

Cass

One time Bruce took her to like. Silver Dollar City or somewhere else that had someone with a loom, and she was fascinated. She made him buy her a shawl and then made Tim put together a power point about why she should have a loom.

Bruce ended up caving and buying her one that's skinnier, for like table runners. It's great, because she's mostly fascinated with making gradients in her weaves.

She learned Swedish Weaving (it's a like an embroidery/weaving hybrid) so she could embellish her works.

Mostly gives them out as gifts. She gave one to Selina, who guards it possessively. Harley tried to borrow it once and about lost her fingers.

Probably also learned to make little tassles for the ends

Tim

Attention to detail? Obsession over the minutia? Oh. You know my boy is an epoxy resin artist.

Has a crafting station in his room that's meticulously organized. There's cubbies for pigments, flowers, glitters, bits of ribbons and strings, etc etc

Probably makes all kinds of thing tbh. Phone cases, trinkets, you name it. But pens are his favorites, because they're both simple and practical. There's like a whole army of pens that just... keeps growing in Titans Tower because he always forgets where he's put his.

None of his teammates realize he is the source of the pens. They (Kon, Cassie, Bart) just think the pens are an infestations and/or are pairing up and making baby pens. But Cassie and Bart love them bc ✨aesthetics✨

Probably has a tik tok or an insta where he posts videos of himself de-molding things to soothing lofi tracks. Literally just. All the vibes. It's gorgeous.

Steph

Also all the vibes. She is a bujo/stationary queen.

Her collection is much messier than Tim's, but has a surprising amount of overlap. Sometimes they borrow things from each other, and have collabed on their social accounts (he makes journal covers, she makes them into notebooks, he supplies her with pens, she uses them when making a weekly/monthly set up, etc)

Stickers and glitter everywhere

Probably sponsored.

Canonically draws cute little cartoons in the comics, they absolutely are a regular on her socials and in her bujos.

Duke

For some reason I don't peg him as being as craft-oriented as his closest-in-age sibs? He probably has less expensive coping mechanisms tbh

That being said I can see he would enjoy those stores where you go in and paint pottery and they kiln/glaze it for you? Like he isn't into sculpting it himself, but painting the little kitchenware pieces or statuettes is relaxing.

He paints mugs for all his sibs on their birthdays, and for Alfred.

Alfred probably has a whole army of custom mugs made for him by the kids, now that I'm thinking about it. Like half of them are from Duke, because he doesn't know what else to do with them. There are just so many because it's so simple.....

Kate Kane, Tatsu Yamashiro, and Jeff Pierce also all have mugs. Actually... Lowkey highkey I can see that Tatsu might have introduced Duke to this kind of stuff in the first place? I can see that she would enjoy something simple that you can do while trying to clear out your mind.

Damian

Well. Damian is a gifted artist, but this translates differently into actual crafts. It just does.

He's probably a good printmaker. Not only does this take advantage of his art skills and keen attention to details, but it's one of the oldest artforms still in practice today. Most printmakers develop their techniques by perfecting one of several forms of the art, which have been passed through generations, and have a really firm grip on art history. Those stories would appeal to Damian, in addition to the craft itself.

Damian is the most likely of his siblings to be able to sit still for prolonged periods of time and do a repetitive motion. In fact, it may actually be something he can enjoy if it means he can just zone out for a bit. So, he's probably actually decent at spinning yarn. If the sky is grey and rainy, he drags out a wheel and some pre-sorted rolags and spins yarn, exclusively for Cass, who then weaves it. He enjoys the progression of colors in the fibers as much as she does, and they bond over it.

The feeling of different fibers slipping through his fingers is also really soothing. Bad day? Time to spin some merino, because it slips like water through his touch. Need to feel grounded? Time to spin a cotton blend, because you have to be present enough not to chafe your hands on the rough fibers...

Probably also really good at embroidery, for the same reasons. Plus, it's really satisfying to feel and hear the pbt-psht, pbt-psht of the needle and thread pulling through the taut fabric.

Bruce

Obviously knows how to forge/metalwork. I like to imagine he's also dabbled in lost wax casting.

Probably has little trinkets he made when he was younger scattered around the house. Maybe he donated a few to charity auctions.

Has made rings/jewelry pieces. But doesn't talk about them. (One ring went to Selina, and a pair of earrings went to Talia)

Alfred

The all-talented, all-knowing. There's probably nothing he can't do. He already sews all their outfits. So I mean.

Sometimes it feels really good to have something to stab. I'm not saying he does needle felting, but I'm not saying he wouldn't.

Probably was the one who taught Bruce about lost wax, and the one who helps Damian research about printmakers.

Silently supplies all the kids with all the art things.

Has a chest in his room filled with all the things that he's been gifted with over the years. There's little uneven macrame hanging from when Dick was just getting the hang of it, lumpy scarves that are too short for anyone to realistically wear from Jason, linen sets made by Cass, various trinkets from Tim, handmade cards and notebooks from Steph, mugs from Duke, and old embroidery pieces from Damian in unevenly stained hoops.

[i-cant-sing]

Okay, Moon anon was able to contact me and I'm gonna post their chapters 3-6 here.

Daniel and YN 3 🌗🌗

Rainy days are crazy. Some of YN’s best and worst memories were on a rainy day. It was a rainy day when Daniel was born. His parents overjoyed when he decided to join the world early. The Sunny morning turned rainy when they saw something was wrong. The sky was so dark when the doctored explained that their baby didn’t get enough oxygen in the womb or when he came out. That his brain was impacted by the trauma. It took four years for Daniel’s mother to stop blaming herself, four years for her to understand that she couldn’t have known that something was wrong in her womb. Four years when they had their second child. It was a rainy day when YN and Daniel got lost. Holding each other’s hand, tightly they wandered the Kamino Ward. Hoping that their parents would be right down an alley or around the corner. That was a terrible 6th birthday for YN. The steps Daniel left in the dirt started to get deeper and more burnt. The boy slightly started to tremble. “Daniel.. it’s gonna be ok. Momma and Pop are going to find us we just have to-“ “Are you two lost?” A very tall man in a black suit asked. YN couldn’t remember his face, but his voice was eerily calm and smoothe. His head had snow white hair on it. A look at him would’ve left even the hero All Might scared. “ye…Yes. My brother and I can’t find our parents..” “Oh dear. Well I can help you. They couldn’t have gotten far.” He held his hand to Daniel. And he almost took it had YN not stepped in. “We’re not supposed to touch strangers.” “Oh yes, that’s a very good rule. Well my name is.. Shigaraki. Now what are yours?” “…yn.. and daniel..” “Now we aren’t strangers. Let’s get you two somewhere safe. Your brother’s quirk might level the neighborho-“ “YN! DANIEL!” The relieved voice of their father shouted out. And the two quickly turned away, toward his calls and open arms. Tears running down their faces, swearing to never wander off again. The day was saved. When YN went to turn to Mr Shigaraki to tell him it was fine, he had disappeared into the crowd. But one question lingered in her head. How did he know Daniel’s quirk could be dangerous? It was a sunny day at first when YN and Daniel went out to the park for their Day out. YN had already planned to tell her parents that she wanted to come back here for her 12th birthday in a few months. Daniel kept over-stimulating himself with every single thing that caught his eyes. The anthill, the trees, the way the wind carried the leaves, when he and YN jumped around over the hopscotch drawings. When the rain came down they didn’t want to leave. They wanted to splash in the wetness like a couple of ducks. But Momma was insistent it was time to go back to the apartment. Inside the car YN immediately put on her headphones to listen to nightcore covers of popular songs. It wasn’t until she noticed her mom’s terrified expression and felt her dad’s fear did she take them off. “-I DONT KNOW ITS NOT BREAKING!” “WE’RE GOING RIGHT INTO TRAFFIC! DO SOMETHING!” “..momma?..” “DANIEL! YN GET DOWN!” That was the last thing her mother said to her. The rain hit the car harder. Daniel was quick to cover his little sister as the car swerved towards a large truck. YN felt her brother shield over their bodies. The last thing she heard from her father was a yell. Before they crashed into the truck. Before YN and Daniel were flung out into the side of the road. Scratches beginning to litter their arms and cheeks. YN felt the rain on her face as she tried looking up. Tried finding her parents. It was a rainy day when the last image of her parents was the crushed front end of the car. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN 4 🌗🌗

The incident at the cafe left a bigger mess then was intended. Of course the waitress didn’t say a word about who caused the mess, still terrified of the threat, but the manager still called the police. At the moment it was being investigated as a break in. It wasn’t until they started to bag the broken vases as evidence did they think to call a hero as they believed this was a terrorist villain trying to strike more fear. When the first cop touch the broken vases he immediately fell over and started seizing. Like someone had sent hundreds of volts up through his gloved fingers and into his blood stream. The second cop tried picking up the glass with prongs so that she wouldn’t get the same effect. But she still felt some pain and volts. Even the glass windows were giving off static. When they were examined no one could find a point of impact. It was almost like they spontaneously exploded. Worse and more confusing yet was the fact that the material seemed to give off radiation spikes. From a computer screen image, it was like a red glow was emanated from the glass. When the police tried to check the cameras, all the footage was either ruined, too melted to gather anything. It left them in a stump. So they had to make a plea to the hero society to get fresh eyes and help on the case. Not expecting any big response. Some heroes wanted to solve the mystery because it stumped them as well. This quirk residue was something unseen before. Calls and emails were left. All saying they would look into it. And it seemed like this would just be a mysterious case left forgotten. That is until the All Might showed up in the station one morning. Along with his protege Deku. They said they wanted to solve the case because if this person left such a dangerous residue after using their quirk, then they were a danger to themselves and others. No on saw the real intentions in their eyes. When they asked about the only other patron in the cafe the police said that they tried tracking them down, but they were gone into the wind. The only other patron at the cafe made their way into a compound. Holding treats meant for a little girl. But first he had to make a stop at his boss’s office. “Hey.. Kai. You won’t believe what Just saw.” Meanwhile in the station two separate rats made calls to two separate people. “Put me through to Shigaraki…. Hello. I have something interesting to tell you. Something that might please you and your Sensei.” “Oh hey there Aizawa. Detective Tsukauchi here. Look I you know about that cafe destruction a week ago? Yea well I think you outta here about this.” Indeed the cafe incident left a bigger mess than intended. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 5 🌗🌗

They’d been gone for at least two months. YN’s feet hurt and Daniel missed his own bed. But they had to keep going, with no intended final destination but a goal to keep away from the previous home they ran from. After the morning at the cafe, YN and Daniel had kept to the shadows for the rest of the day. But they couldn’t keep going like this. They needed to eat today but not at a restaurant. There was only one dreaded… dreaded option. The grocery store. So after they checked in at the latest motel with kitchens in the rooms, the siblings ventured off to the store.YN couldn’t leave Daniel alone yet. He’d panic and probably have a fit. The store was minimally packed. Since it was still early in the day it seemed like they would zip in and out with relative ease. After grabbing the bare essentials, and what she could pack in a backpack without much drag, it was time to go to the candy aisle. It was a long journey thus far, a journey deserving of some sour candies. But of course there had to be another person there. Invading space and looking right at her favorites. She wanted to just grab and go. But her hand and the stranger's hand touched as they reached for the same one. “Sorry. I should’ve watched where I was going heh..” The tall redhead said. A small blush on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s fine. Lemme just grab and go here.” She looked back for Daniel, luckily he was close by staring at the varieties of pocky they had. Turning back she noticed his uniform. UA, that might prove to be a complication. But YN was desperate for some kind words and a brief moment to talk to someone her own age. “So you go to UA? Are you a general student or a hero course student?” “Oh hero course definitely! I even have my hero name chosen!” “Wow that’s great. I hope in a few years I get to be saved by…?” “Red Riot!” “Like Crimson Riot?” “Exactly! I really admire him and I hope I live up to his-“ “OI SH**TY HAIR! WE’RE GONNA BE LATE! GRAB YOUR CRAP AND LET’S GO!” A blonde kid shouted down the aisle, also wearing a UA outfit. YN couldn’t place why but she felt like she’d known him before. That volume felt very familiar, but it startled her brother who jumped in fear causing the pocky he saw to fall off the shelving. Time to go now. “I should go anyway. It was nice meeting you.” “Wait, we could walk you and your brother to your school if you guys want?” “We have to go.” The blonde got closer and she could tell something was perpetually up his ass. “Bye.” “Wait! My name’s Eijiro Kirishima. What’s yours?” “YN. Just YN. That’s my brother Daniel.” And before he or his companion could ask anything else the two siblings fast walked toward the checkout and were out the door before they got another chance to talk to them. “YN… huh she was pretty cool right bakubro!” “What ever. Let’s get going before we show up after Deku.” But that name was familiar to him. The girl had long since faded from his mind, but how could anyone forget the day when a quirkless kid tried bashing your head into the dirt. He planned on apologizing the next day for his comments but she was gone. Gone and almost forgotten. It could be possible that this was just someone who shared the same name. But maybe.. possibly.. the universe was giving him the chance to apologize. “YN.” 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 6 🌗🌗

YN never really liked her neighbors. She never outright loathed them, but she was uncomfortable with how Inko kept trying to be her mother, and how Izuku had this strange obsessive stare when he looked at her. As long as they stayed in their apartment and never bothered them it would all be fine. But their parents couldn’t watch them all the time. So on days when momma and pop went out Miss Midoryia would graciously watch them. YN never liked pity. So when Miss Midoryia tried to pity and feel sorry about YN’s quirkless status, that just made her dig her heels in longer. She didn’t need people to fuss over her like she was a glass doll. At least with Izuku she could’ve had a companion. She did try to get along with him. But he was so weird. Just because they both were quirkless didn’t mean they’d would be close. “So why are you homeschooled?” “I get into fights.” “Why?” “Because people are mean and they think they’ll have no consequences to their words. I proved them wrong.” “Were they mean because you’re quirkless or because Daniel is… different?” Now obviously he didn’t mean any harm by that. But an emotional 10 year old girl is not someone to mess with. So with a sharp glare to his face the conversation quickly died. In the dining room, Daniel would usually be coloring. Or playing with his legos. Something to stim and distract his mind. Sometimes he’d just pull out a old painting his dad got him, and he’d spend hours looking at the strokes and would mentally add a new feature. Twirling the hair on his head whilst sucking/biting his thumb. “Daniel? Would you like some water?” “No miss. I want momma.” “I know sweetie but she won’t be gone forever. And you call me Inko” Though she’d prefer him to call her something more affectionate. Throughout the night Inko kept trying to mother them. She hovered over YN’s neck and tried petting her head which resulted in a swipe from the little girl. By the time YN’s parents got back, she was relieved and spent the rest of the night complaining to her mom about how she didn’t want to go over to the neighbors anymore and how she felt uncomfortable. Across the hall the two greenettes were enamored with the two kids. Inko adored how sweet Daniel was, how shy he looked to her. Izuku was star struck at this girl without a quirk who was so quick to fight against the norms put in place by a society against them. They'd soon make it a habit to try to talk to the family in the hall, or bump into them on the street. One day, after the family had been gone for a couple weeks, they saw the two with several police officers and a social worker packing away all their belongings. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something terrible had happened. When Inko offered to watch them, the social worker confirmed the worst and took the children away. Three weeks later, as her son was at school Inko kept trying to find the legal way for her to gain custody of the kids when her door was knocked. Her husband, AFO, on the other side. She tried telling him to go away. Tried saying that he had no part in Izuku’s life anymore. But he had a bigger role than known. “How can you be so cruel my love? Especially now that I’ve opened the door for you to gain what you want?” “What do you mean?” “I’ll help you gain custody of the two children you are craving. I happen to have a fascination with them as well.” “I can’t ever guarantee that we’ll be a whole family ever again.” “Of course not. I wouldn’t expect you to. But let’s try something for now.” So Inko made a deal with the devil, to gain two angels. 🌗🌗

Now that AFO is in the story, I'm like so excited! Great work, Moon anon!

[kimbap-r0ll]

Hi!! I’m new here! I would like to join in on your 100-follower match up event! (Congrats btw) I would like to do Bnha for my fandom choice, I also have a male preference.

I’m a INTP, and a Capricorn as well, I’m also an introvert. My appearance is tanned skin with a few moles on my face with clear glasses, and medium length, black, straight hair with no bangs. I’m a bit chunky in my stomach area but I look pretty much skinny from what I have been told. But I don’t have soft clear skin sadly I have eczema which is like a weird skin condition with lots of rashes during summer, or spring due to allergies so I get pretty insecure with my body when I go out publicly so I don’t usually wear skirts, or very short-shorts or crop tops anything that reveals a lot of skin unless I’m really uncomfortable with the hot weather out in public but at home it’s a different story. Personality wise: I pretty much either have a resting bitch face (which is most of the time) or smug face when I’m in a teasing mood. I’m pretty much moody and tired like 99% of the time so I don’t like talking or going out all that much and prefer silence sometimes but I don’t mind having conversations and I’m pretty much easily entertained by weird and funny things like videos I watch. My friends tell me that most of the time I’m like so tired for no reason but absolutely chaotic energy at certain times for when I’m having fun or something.

I really like dark aesthetic, kinda a skater girl vibes mixed with dark academia vibes if that makes sense also big and baggy clothes out in public but inside at home I like to wear a big shirt with no pants but if I have to wear something it’s shorts I only wear stuff like this only at home since I don’t feel insecure about my skin. I love video games, manga, watching anime or action movies, cartoons. I really love eating food but my favorite would be any pasta dish, I like fruity drinks like smoothies or juices sadly I am not a big fan of coffee because I can’t take bitter all that much but I’m working on it. I don’t like hot weather because it makes me absolutely itchy and sweaty so I much prefer colder, rainy, cloudy, windy weather. I don’t like bugs and I don’t like majorly big heights and airplane rides all that much since it gives me anxiety but I really like rollercoasters for some reason. My hobby is listening to music any kind that’s sound good to me, and drawing, digital and traditional drawing. I used to take wrestling, kung fu, and now currently hula dancing. (Don’t ask me about the hula one XD ) that’s it!! thanks for reading have a nice day!! <3 <3

Hello, thank you for the request! I think that the best match for you would be…

Shigaraki

You two share similar styles in aesthetics, and he probably likes that! He doesn’t like things that are too bright in color, so he immediately liked you when you showed up in your darker aesthetics. Speaking of which if you like wearing baggy clothes and ask him to borrow one of his hoodies, he’ll grumble about it but he will lend you it in the end. Please wear them around, it makes his heart melt.

You two share so much in common haha, since he too really likes video games and anime. He would want to hang out with you and just play games most of the time, or react to some really shitty anime together. Hanging out with him is such a vibe in general, since he’s so chill. He might get a bit competitive in certain games, but he’s so cute when he’s focused. He will make bets with you based on gaming too, like whoever loses has to buy them dinner the next time they go out or so. He would love watching you drawing, and maybe you should draw him one day!

He likes colder weather too, since he agrees he’d rather freeze than sweat. You two probably bundle up in blankets when it gets colder and watch something together haha.

You two match in personality so much too! You guys both giving a tired look whenever Spinner or Twice is goofing off is such a mood.

But more importantly, he’s someone who cares deeply about you. If he learns about the insecurities you about your body, he’s the one to reassure you that no matter what you’re beautiful. He’s always had issues accepting himself too, especially after his neck and the bags he has under his eyes, sometimes he gets reminded of his past and gets upset at how he looks. That’s why it hits him hard when he learns you too feel upset sometimes with your physical appearance. He will let you know, probably while you guys are cuddled up or so, that you shouldn’t worry about things like that. To him, you are more beautiful than anything else in the world. He loves your skin, your hair, the moles you have. It’s rare to see Shigaraki so soft so it might surprise you, but he truly cares for you. If anyone upsets you by the way, they’re dust. He’s going to be behind your back no matter what happens. You’re his player two after all!

[ichorizaki]

heather, meet heather—n.h., d.o.

pairing     nakahara chūya x reader x dazai osamu

genre     pure angst

word count     2.2k

warnings     slight blood mention, very brief; unrequited love; love triangle; pining

a/n    my first bsd piece and it’s angst! i love that for me

synopsis     you’re watching the man that you fell in love with fall for another person, but you can’t bring yourself to hate her. chūya watches after you as you pine for an unnamed man, falling for you in the process, but could never quite bring himself to hate the man.

Some people would say that falling in love with somebody was the most blissful thing that could ever happen to you. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach, fluttering and dancing whenever the person you fancy says something that makes your heart skip a beat. You could feel the way your body reacts in order to be in tandem with them, like a waltz of two souls in a garden of fairy tales. You could feel the experience of you falling head over heels with someone in the way you keep wondering how their day was, how they smile, how their eyes light up when talking about something that they adore.

You agreed with all of that. You did feel the butterflies, your body being weird, and you catching yourself wondering if Dazai Osamu wondered about you. You were head over heels for the man who was supposed to be someone terribly feared by the Port Mafia and highly respected by the Armed Detective Agency. You were just someone who happened to be friends with Osamu himself long before his days as a member of the mafia. You never even realised that you’d fallen in love with him until the day he told you that he was in love with a woman whose name you never recognised.

Did it hurt? Of course it did. Watching the person that you fell in love with fall in love with someone else was a curse that you’d never cast even upon the worst of your enemies. You helped him with a heavy heart in executing his plan of getting to know her and eventually take her out on a date. She was just an intern in the agency, helping with the ad hoc duties and she had an abundance of opportunities to be closer to him compared to you. You were just a college graduate with a master’s working full-time as a barista in a café somewhere in the heart of Yokohama trying to make ends meet. It hurt like hell to just be the person that he seeks advice from.

Every time he talked to you, the mirth and ecstasy that swam in the deep ochre pools of his eyes made you wish that he was talking about you like that. Every time he’d begged for you and Atsushi to follow him on their dates made you throw up a little bit in your mouth. You were heartbroken. You knew that Atsushi was looking at you in pity everytime you were both dragged along. You didn’t care. Maybe if you closed your eyes and wished hard enough, the girl would disappear and you’d replace her, his strong arm wrapped around your shoulder underneath the cool November weather.

You were staring into space as you dried the glassware, the store dark with remnants of the staff clearing the trash and cleaning up the café. You didn’t quite pay attention to what you were doing, the chore but a muscle memory while you were distracted with the plaguing thoughts that intruded your mind.

The woman came into the café earlier that day. Even in the midst of the rush hour, even when her order was messed up a little bit, she was patient and kind. She wasn’t everything you wished you were, but she occupied the space in Osamu’s heart and mind. You just wanted to be that person.

Your fingers slipped when grabbing a freshly cleaned cup, the glassware tumbling from your hand and breaking into pieces upon landing in the sink. Thank god you were facing the sink and it didn’t fall on the ground. It would be such a bitch to clean up.

Your coworkers asked if you were okay and if you needed help, for you were bleeding. Wait, bleeding? In a daze, you look down to your hand and sure enough there was a cut. You were pretty sure that it was the universe telling you to move on but it was not as easy as you thought it would be.

How pathetic were you, pining after a man who saw you as nothing more but a good friend? A man who wouldn’t see you as someone he’d want to spend the rest of his life with romantically?

But you’d be the devil incarnate if you ever wished that upon her. She’s . . . perfect. As terrible as it was, you hoped for her to be a bitch beneath those layers of expensive clothes. You hoped for her to be some form of possessive asshole, but she wasn’t. She’s kind, she’s patient, she’s generous, she’s encouraging, and you couldn’t sense any form of malintent from her. Neither could Atsushi. Neither could Kunikida. Neither could Naomi. Nobody could, and that’s what had made you cry yourself to sleep for countless nights.

Then came Nakahara Chūya like an angel sent from the worst part of heaven. He came into the café on one rainy day, his dark coat dripping with the tears of the sky. It made a wet, slippery trail of droplets as he made his way across the empty café before planting himself in a seat before peeling the heavy article off of his body. You would be lying if you didn’t think he was handsome. You took the initiative to summon the mop to wipe up the mess caused by the rain.

He sheepishly apologised, asking if you had somewhere he could dry off his coat. That was the first time that your eyes had met. His were the piercing grey of hardened steel, flecks of emerald splattered around the ring of his irises, and they were the most stunning pair of eyes you’d ever seen. His eyes were a huge contrast to his appearance and his personality as a whole—cold, calm, collected—but it was nothing you ever minded. For some reason, they were just as inviting as the warm whiskey gold of Osamu’s.

Of course you said yes. There was a dryer you could toss his coat in and you could brew him a warm drink for his stay. His dampened vermillion hair fell in tight waves over his face, framing his features beautifully; a stark contrast against the pale white of his skin.

“What drink would you like? You should have something warm while waiting for the rain to stop,” you offered. He kept a watchful eye on you, admiring the way you were already retrieving a small laminated piece of paper that he assumed was the menu.

“What would you recommend? I’ve never been in this part of town.”

You hummed, deep in thought. You rested your forearms against the cool wooden countertop, eyes narrowing just the slightest as you drank in his appearance. It was just a ruse for you to fully admire how attractive he is. The way that he curiously watched you never went unnoticed, his adam’s apple bobbing ever so slightly as he placed the menu down on the countertop.

“You seem like a matcha hojicha latte kinda guy,” you declared with a decisive nod. His eyebrows lifted in amusement. “That’ll be five bucks, good sir.” You cheekily grinned at him, moving to the counter on your left. He mirrored your grin. Did he think you were going to offer him a drink on the house?

Upon making his drink, you made yourself a warm drink to combat the cold interior of the café. You took a seat next to him on the other side of the counter. Seeing how there weren’t any other customers going in or out, you grasped the opportunity to get to know about him, as he did you. He introduced himself, and then talked about his day. You noticed the little quirks that he had—how his eyebrow twitches when he’s annoyed, how he laughs obnoxiously loud and slaps his knee when something tickles him funny, how he falls quiet when it was your turn to talk and how equally observant he was to your needs.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that the rain stopped and his coat was perfectly dry and warm. He must have noticed that your mood had dampened just the slightest despite the clearing sky and warmth flooding through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the café. Chūya, ever so chivalrous, suggested to exchange contacts to keep in touch. Who were you to disagree?

After that fateful day, Chūya had taken a liking to you. There was just something about you that kept drawing him back every time. Even when he wasn’t in the area, any time he could drop by, he would. He would always order the same thing—matcha hojicha latte and a slice of matcha azuki cake—unless you’d suggest he try something new in the menu or another cake from the selection that they had.

He couldn’t get enough of you. He was always asking you about your day, if you had any plans, what show you were currently binging, and he’d always let you rant to him about even the most menial of things. There was one time, he remembers, that you ranted to him about how you saw a stray kitten so sweet and playful that it broke your heart to leave it in the streets after feeding it and playing with it for a solid hour after your shift had ended at work. It got to the point where you were full-on bawling. You were calling him, upset, a week later, saying that the kitten that you’d named Jiji, was no longer in the back alley of the store as he used to be.

“Chūya! I can’t find Jiji!” That was the first thing that you said when he picked up the call. He was back at his sleeping quarters, phone wedged in between his ear and shoulder while he undid the buttons of his vest with one hand. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Jiji?” He echoed, shrugging off the vest. He heard a sound of confirmation from you. Chūya sat down on his bed, grabbing his phone to hold it carefully against his ear so he could solely focus on you.

“The cat living in the back alley of the café,” you elaborated breathlessly. Oh. “He’s not here. What if someone took him?” You sighed heavily and he could hear you planting yourself down on the cobblestone floor. Traffic could be heard farther away from your side of the call, but it was nothing he minded because it made sure that you were in a public place and you were somewhat safe.

“If someone took him, that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?” He tried to reason, the image of the calico—cleaned, vaccinated, sterilised, and happily roaming the halls of the building—appearing in his mind. Yep, he was the culprit. “That means that someone’s caring for him. He’s got a bed to sleep in and he’s not wondering when his next meal will be, right?”

He could practically hear you deflate at his words, the corners of his lips tugging upwards into an amused smirk. He had always found it adorable how you whined a little whenever he was right. Another heavy sigh came from your end, unsatisfied that it wasn’t you who brought him home, but you couldn’t exactly do so anyway. On top of rent and your own basic needs, you had no room to home a cat.

“Have you had dinner?” His dark silver-coated eyes flicker to the digital clock on his nightstand. It was a little past seven in the evening, right when your full shift had ended as it should. The loud growl from your stomach on the other end was enough of an answer, eliciting a soft chuckle from him. “Okay, stay there. Let’s have dinner together. That sound good?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Chūya.” He’s always loved the way that his name rolled off of your tongue, like it was an age-old remedy that breathes life and wonder.

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

When he picked you up, you looked like a kicked puppy sitting by the entrance of your café. That night, he took you out for dinner and he learned a little bit more about you. As the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat, he felt his heart squeeze in disappointment when he’d found out that you were hung up over somebody else.

The thing was, he couldn’t even be mad at the person. He didn’t know who he was, nor could he give two fucks, but he wanted to be mad at the person for breaking your heart like that. Yet from the way you described him, he was just the average joe who didn’t dare to hurt a fly.

You talked about him like he was the light of your life; like he had handpicked the stars in the night sky and had carefully placed them, mapping out the ageless constellations that stared back at you every night. You talked about him like he was the sole reason for your happiness and the main cause of your despair.

Did it hurt? Fuck yeah, it did. He’s watching the person he’s in love with fall apart because of the person they’re in love with. But what else could he do but be by your side? What else could he do but help you move on from this mysterious man while he keeps his feelings for you locked away in the deepest depths of his heart, never to be touched? Chūya knew he couldn’t make you as happy as the other man could. The least that he could do was try. Even when the world tears itself apart, he’d do anything to make sure you were safe and sound. Because that’s what friends were for, after all.

[primatechnosynthpop]

Wow! Against all odds, I finally got around to actually writing the follow-up to I'm Gonna Be The Anti-Hero that's existed exclusively in my head for months! Well uh here it is :3

---

The secret underground room beneath Plymouth rock was dark and silent as always, save for the faint dripping of water through a crack in the ceiling. It figured that, after living there for countless centuries, the structural integrity would finally begin to erode. That dripping sound, although highly irritating when it first started a month or so ago, had now settled into background noise which John Smith paid no attention to. He was a pilgrim, not a witch; it wasn't like the water could hurt him.

Then again, he realized a few moments too late one rainy spring day, perhaps he should have reevaluated that statement. He was minding his own business sitting in his chair and reminiscing about the very old days (that was the only thing he could really do anymore, slowly decaying as his body was) when the soft and steady dripping suddenly escalated at an exponential rate into what sounded like a small waterfall. He turned his head to see a semi-transparent humanoid figure taking shape out of the water pooling in the corner--strangely tinted red, as though the water were mixed with blood. As the old pilgrim watched, jaw agape, the figure strode purposefully toward him, taking on a more solid form as it did so.

"What are you doing here, intruder?" John Smith demanded, one hand tightening around the hilt of his sword while his other hand reached behind his back to fumble for his musket.

"This secret underground room isn't government sanctioned," the stranger hissed. (Although... was he a stranger? John Smith somehow felt that he'd seen this youngster once before, but he couldn't quite place where or when.) "And you have no official identification registering you as a legal citizen. Not to mention, you haven't been paying taxes... disgraceful."

Before John Smith had the chance to concoct a retort or draw either of his weapons, the masked man's hands were around his throat and crushing his windpipe with a force that could only be driven by an inhuman amount of bloodlust. And within seconds, the life of a pilgrim that had been extended for centuries past its expiration date was finally put to an end.

*

"I can't believe they want us to make a clown movie at a time like this."

"I can believe it," Neil replied without looking up from the shopping list in his hand. "The studio wants a lot from us, remember? They're not going to care how sad we are. Anyway, it's been four months--" The emotions bubbling up within him refused to let his voice stay level, so he gritted his teeth and hissed out the rest of his sentence rather than let himself start crying in the middle of the dollar store. "We should be over it by now."

"Neil..." Kevin began in the way he'd often addressed Neil over the past few months--brow furrowed, voice edged with an obvious and vaguely patronizing concern--only to trail off and shake his head with a sigh. Apparently he'd finally given up on trying to make Neil feel better, which was just fine by him, because things are never gonna go back to the way they were before and it's my fault and I don't deserve to feel good about it.

"Anyway, we've got what we came for," Neil muttered, waving his hand in the general direction of Kevin's shopping basket without looking him in the eyes. "Let's go."

At the checkout counter, the cashier frowned and shook her head when Neil offered her a five-dollar bill. "Sorry," she told them, "But all this is going to cost $29.99."

"What? But we don't have that kind of money!" Neil lamented. "And we got this stuff from the clearance section... plus this is the dollar store, so shouldn't everything just cost a dollar?"

For a visual aid as he spoke, he grabbed one of the items they were ringing up--a bargain pack of multicoloured clown wigs--and shook it in the cashier's face. Apparently unmoved by his bargaining, she pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"Maybe you should have checked the price tags first, sir."

"Huh? But, but..." Neil trailed off when he looked down at the price tag on the item in his hands. The bright orange tag had the original price, $7.50, crossed out and replaced with $2.35... but then below that, scribbled in tiny and barely legible font, it read "just kidding, it's actually eleven dollars now." "Aw, man," he groaned, tossing the pack down on the conveyor belt and sticking his hands in his pockets. "Just our luck."

Kevin had a thoughtful look in his eyes while he drove them home empty-handed. When he pulled up outside the clubhouse a few minutes later and they climbed out of the truck, he suddenly laid a hand on Neil's shoulder.

"Say, Neil, let's not get discouraged," he said. "I've got another idea for how we could get our hands on some props."

"Really?" Neil asked, perking up despite himself. "How?"

"Well, I think--" Kevin broke off as unexpectedly as he'd started, encouraging smile briefly dipping into a grimace. "...You know what, I'll take care of it myself. You can hold down the fort here, okay? I won't be long."

Neil's brow furrowed. "Okay, but what are you...?"

Without explaining himself any further, Kevin clapped him firmly on the back, hopped back into his truck, and drove off. Neil watched him recede down the road with bewilderment. Being all secretive like that wasn't like Kevin... Unless he's trying to protect me from something, he realized with a twinge of bitterness. That would be just like him, the way things had been recently. Ever since the past winter, and what had happened with Ryan, Kevin's latent big-brother-ish tendencies had escalated; now he watched over Neil like a hawk and freaked out every time he so much as stubbed his toe. Under different circumstances Neil would have relished being fussed over, but now it was more annoying than anything else. The thing was, he didn't deserve it. If anything... his fingers strayed up to absentmindedly fidget with the four-leaf clover pinned to his shirt. I deserve to have bad luck. I deserve to suffer, after what I did to Ryan.

Still, there wasn't much he could do about it now, and he wasn't going to say no to having the clubhouse to himself for a while. With a sigh, he disentangled his fingers from the clover's leaves, ran a hand through his overgrown bangs, and turned to head inside. Maybe he could play cards or something to pass the time.

*

A thick layer of dust had settled over everything in Ryan's house. That made sense, of course. It had been four months--no, five, since Ryan hadn't come home once while he was being a vigilante--since anyone had set foot there. Even so, Kevin was unprepared for the full-scale assault on his lungs when he opened the door, and promptly broke into a coughing fit.

"Man, good thing Neil stayed home," he thought aloud as he batted thick, swirling clouds of dust and spiderwebs out of his face. "The way things have been going for him lately..."

He'd probably choke to death on all this dust, he thought but didn't say aloud, and then felt bad for thinking it in the first place. Kevin didn't understand what had happened to Neil in the course of the past few days, but ever since picking up that clover, he seemed to be having a run of uncharacteristically bad luck. Whether it was random chance or something more suspicious was afoot, it sure wasn't doing much for his already thoroughly frayed nerves.

"Alright, calm down, James," he muttered to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and ideally dispel the rest of the dust. "Focus. Concentrate. What are you here for? Props for your webisode. Right."

Keeping that objective in mind, he made his way past the front entrance and into the living room. There, a few objects were strewn around that caught his eye: a mannequin bust wearing a colourful wig; an eccentrically patterned jacket draped over a chair; a brush dipped into a rusted metal container filled with what he hoped was red paint. After looking around a little more he found a large cardboard box filled with mutilated stuffed animals, which he mostly emptied out and started filling with the useful items he came across.

All the while, a persistent feeling of unease stirred in his gut, becoming increasingly hard to ignore with each belonging of Ryan's he packed away. This is wrong. I shouldn't steal from him. Kevin paused and looked down at the box in his arms with a frown. One of the items sticking out the top, a blank-faced doll head, seemed to stare accusingly back at him. For a moment he saw it not as a plastic figure, but as a human form encased in ice and then broken apart. He blinked and the illusion quickly vanished, but an unsettling feeling remained in its wake. Neil was right; it had been months already. So why did going through Ryan's things make him feel so dirty? Ryan didn't need any of this stuff anymore. He was gone. Wasn't he?

With a weary sigh that, had anyone been around to ask, he would have accredited to the physical exertion of carrying heavy stuff around, Kevin set the box down and stepped back to survey the room he was in now. If he remembered right, this kind of room was called a study--there was an armchair with a few suspicious stains lurking beneath the dust, a desk strewn with papers all scrawled full of nonsense like the ravings of a mad scientist, and an ornate bookshelf. He wandered over to the latter furniture piece and ran his hands along the spines of the books, letting their leathery texture ground him in the present. He noticed several unusual bibles and other ancient texts, and a stash of calendars, some of which he was pretty sure had originally belonged to him or Neil; the up-to-date calendars and one of the more normal-looking bibles went into the box, while he decided everything else was better left where it was.

There was one other set of books he recognized: a teen fantasy series that Neil had often gushed about. Thinking back to the previous fall and all the events he normally tried not to think about, he experimentally lifted one of the fantasy books off the shelf. At once, just as he remembered from when Neil showed him, the bookshelf rumbled to the side and revealed a narrow staircase descending into the basement.

If anyone asked him, Kevin couldn't really say what compelled him to go down those stairs. The secret chamber was as empty as he remembered, with nothing down there that could possibly be of use for the webisode. And without a lantern, he could barely even see the only things that were there to speak of: the paintings of Ryan's ancestors.

"Ryan..." The name manifested on Kevin's lips unexpectedly as he stared, squinting through the dust and darkness, at the row of portraits grinning lopsidedly back at him. He knew the paintings couldn't hear him--hell, they weren't even paintings of Ryan himself, just his relatives. But their faces were practically identical to him, that face he hadn't seen in person for nearly half a year, and that alone was enough to clog up his throat with unbearable emotions.

The thought of It's a good thing Neil isn't here for this surfaced again, and this time Kevin had to agree with himself. Losing a close friend was... well, there was no way not to take it hard. But Neil seemed to have taken it particularly hard, even blaming himself, to the point where any mention of Ryan would immediately send him straight back into a depressive spiral no matter how happy he'd been a moment earlier. That was why Kevin had kept this idea a secret from his friend in the first place--that, and he wasn't sure if it was going to pan out and didn't want to get Neil's hopes up. He figured that if Neil asked where he got all the stuff he'd found, he'd just say it was from a garage sale.

Now, looking into the achingly familiar manic blue eyes of those portraits mounted on the wall, Kevin thought of those news reports about the mysterious killings that had been going on around town. If that really was Ryan, and he was somehow still alive...

"Why?" he whispered. Without really thinking, he reached out and pressed his hand against the painting as if to cup its cheek. "Why haven't you come home, Ryan? Where are you?"

*

The target was at home, alone in her bedroom playing video games. Casual, unbothered by any harm her actions may have caused. Shameful. In an icy swirl of perhaps not-so-righteous fury, the vigilante took form in the corner of her room and crept up behind her. With an average build and no weapons at the ready, she would be no trouble to dispose of.

"Playing dead in order to toy with an innocent man's feelings," he growled. "Some people would call it ghosting. I call it a crime punishable by death."

"Jesus christ, what the fuck?!" Wendy yelped as she spun to face the vigilante. "How'd you get in here?"

"You shouldn't worry about that," he told her, gloved hands already flexing in anticipation of tightening around her neck. Or perhaps this time he'd thrust his hand straight through her chest and rip out her heart--an appropriate punishment for her crimes. "You'll have plenty of time to figure it out once I send you to hell."

"Okay, seriously? What is happening here?" Eyes narrowed, Wendy put her game on pause and got to her feet to stare the vigilante down. "You said something about me playing dead..." Her eyes suddenly widened with recognition, and the vigilante waited for the fear to set in along with it, but instead she shook her head and laughed. A pitying laugh. "Wait, you're not friends with that, uh, that filmmaker guy, are you? Geez, I seriously must have dodged a bullet there."

"Filmmaker..." the vigilante murmured as the word echoed in his mind. Yes, that's right. The man she stood up was a filmmaker... of a sort. (How did he know that? How did he even know who this woman was? Those questions weren't worth dwelling on, he decided.) "You may have thought you dodged a bullet back then, but I'm here to see that the bullet circles back around and destroys you like you deserve."

Wendy crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, any trace of fear on her face outmatched by her sad, pitying smile. "Sure, keep the edgy sayings coming, Mr. Hot Topic. And what's with the getup, anyway?" she added with a nod to the vigilante's predominantly dark outfit. "Must be kinda warm."

Warm? The vigilante snorted derisively. No, of course he wasn't too warm. His blood, as it always had for as far back as he could clearly remember, ran cold like that of a snake. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been warm. And he certainly couldn't remember a time when he'd worn anything other than his current ensemble. Rather than waste time telling this insufferable woman as much, though, he simply took a few purposeful strides to close the distance between them, hands extended and more than ready to kill.

"Ugh, get away from me, creep!"

In a startlingly swift motion, Wendy's leg shot out and connected with the vigilante's ankles, sending him toppling to the floor. He hissed in irration, though not in pain--when his sensations were already perpetually numb, it would take a lot more than that to hurt him--and got to his feet, dusting himself off with a scowl. In the few seconds this took, Wendy grabbed a baseball bat from the corner of the room. Now she stood brandishing it in perfect athletic form with a battle-ready glint in her eye.

"Not another step, you hear me?" When the vigilante didn't dignify her with a response, she gritted her teeth and gave the bat a twirl--attempting to show off, it seemed, but her hands shook slightly and she nearly dropped the bat, only barely managing to regain her grip on it. "My mom is in the other room right now, and... well, she hasn't done anything wrong, so you don't want to punish her, right? And if anything happens to me..."

He stiffened at Wendy's mention of her mother. An innocent citizen? That was the type of person a vigilante was meant to protect at all costs; otherwise vigilante justice was no better than the police. But no one is innocent in this city. Even so, he understood the implicit threat--not that Wendy's mother would bring him down herself, but that either woman could very well call the police. And the last thing he wanted was to get law enforcement involved.

"...Fine," he snarled at last, turning on his heel with a twirl of his vigilante cape. "You can live a while longer. But I'll be back, and then you'll regret your sins."

He heard her gasp but didn't bother sparing her another glance as he let his form dissolve into a splash of red-tinted ice, sinking through her floorboards and off to thwart another criminal.

*

Slowly and carefully as a technician deactivating a bomb, Neil set the three of spades down across the top of the three other cards he'd lined up on the table. The humble beginnings of a tower stood for a moment, and he held his breath eagerly as he reached for another card to place on top, only for it to suddenly shudder and collapse like an anime girl who'd stood in the rain for too long.

"Dang it!" Neil threw his hands in the air in exasperation. When he did, a droplet of his own blood landed on his glasses, and he realized with a start that his hand was bleeding--just a paper cut, but still, he'd better wash up.

As he ran his hand under cold water, transfixed by the sight of the blood swirling down the drain, a sudden cracking noise rang out just above him. His head snapped up to stare at the spontaneously cracked bathroom mirror. His reflection stared back, stricken and gaunt, as shards of shattered glass rained down into the sink, where they mixed with the water and the blood. Neil shivered, his breath quickening.

Icy water... ice, blood, broken mirrors. All mixed together. Shattered. Blood, guts, ice, mixed together, down the drain. My fault my fault my fault my fault--

"No," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his nails into his scalp as hard as he could. "No! I didn't do it, I didn't... I didn't mean to..."

Deep breaths, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. It sounded like Kevin's voice, worried to the point of being slightly patronizing. Neil grimaced, annoyed at his own brain for manifesting its self-preservation in such a way, but he complied nonetheless. Keeping his eyes wrenched shut, he took several deep breaths in and out until his heartbeat slowed to normal--he hadn't even noticed it speeding up--and his hands didn't shake when he lowered them away from his head.

"Hey, you know what'd really make me feel better?" he said aloud to nobody in particular, putting on a broad smile and wiping his hands off on a towel. "A nice hot bath! Yep, that'll counteract my blood running cold, alright..."

He ran his hands up and down his arms as he spoke, although he didn't know who he was trying to fool; the chill that had settled into his bones had nothing to do with the temperature. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure who this whole performance of forced cheerfulness was meant for... the studio, maybe. He wouldn't put it past them to hide cameras everywhere. Either way, even if it wouldn't fix his psychological issues, a bath really would be pretty nice. He put the plug in and started running the tub, with the water temperature set just hot enough that it would scald him a little at first.

He wasn't sure exactly what happened when he sat down on the edge of the tub to take his socks off, whether he slipped on something or leaned too far back or what, but suddenly he lost balance. And by the time he realized he was falling backward, he only had a split-second to curse his rotten luck before his head connected with the wall and he blacked out.

*

In the end, Kevin managed to get a pretty good haul from Ryan's house. In addition to the stuff he and Neil could use for their webisode, he'd retrieved the calendars and a couple other things it looked like Ryan had stolen from them, as well as their old communicator wristwatches. (He wasn't sure if the watches fell into the camp of things Ryan had stolen, or if they'd just brought them over to his place for a sleepover once and forgotten them there. Either way, Kevin figured it could come in handy to start using them again.)

"Hey, Neil," he called as he stepped into the clubhouse with the box in his arms and kicked the door shut behind him. "I'm back."

There was no reply. Frowning, Kevin set the box down with a slight grunt of effort and wandered through the living room and down the hall. There were a few playing cards scattered on the table, suggesting that Neil had been trying to make a house of cards but given up halfway. Kevin couldn't really blame him for that; assembling cards in such a way that they'd actually stay upright was yet another thing that had been more in Ryan's ballpark than in either of theirs. Still, that didn't explain where Neil was now...

"Neil? You there, bud?" Still being met with no answer, Kevin came to a stop outside the bathroom door, which was ajar with water pooling out from inside. "Oh, man, that's not a good sign..."

He gave a tentative knock, and when there was still no response, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. The sight that met his eyes when he did so immediately made his breath hitch and his blood run cold. The broken mirror over the vanity reflected his slack-jawed expression as he stared at the overflowing bathtub, the pair of still-clothed legs dangling over the rim, and the smudge of blood on the wall leading down to the head of the man those legs belonged to, slumped inside the tub with his head submerged in the water.

"Neil!!"

Kevin sprinted across the room to lift Neil out of the tub. It then took him a few seconds longer to turn off the faucet and pull the plug, as by that point the shock had turned to dread and his hands were shaking. Once the water was slowly starting to drain, he fell to his knees and pulled Neil tight to his chest, one hand clutching at the back of his soaked-through t-shirt while the other fumbled across the back of his head searching for the source of the blood. It didn't take long for him to find the slightly matted patch of damp hair indicating where Neil had banged his head against the wall. Kevin swallowed hard as dread leapt up to claw at his throat. The only question is... how long was he submerged?

"Neil," he whispered, and was almost embarrassed to hear how hoarsely his own voice came out. "Wake up. Please."

No response. Kevin reluctantly pulled back to hold Neil at an arm's length, and shuddered at how limply his friend's body flopped forward. He noticed, with a white-hot jolt of irrational anger, that the four-leaf clover was still in place. Fat lot of good that thing's done for him. He grabbed the clover and crumpled it in his fist, all the while tears pressed against the back of his eyes; he struggled not to let them fall. Damn it... first Ryan, now Neil... What kind of protector was he? What kind of friend?

He slammed his fist, the useless clover still clenched within, against the drenched floor tiles. At that moment, the lightbulb above his head exploded and sent sparking wires raining down around him. As soon as electricity met water, it sent a nasty shock through Kevin's veins; he screamed out of equal parts surprise and pain and scrambled up onto the countertop, which was barely wide enough to support him.

On the floor below, Neil's body convulsed. Then his eyes snapped open and he drew in a gasp that turned into a scream halfway through. Although touching his friend's hand sent the current through his own body for a moment, Kevin was quick to grab him anyway, and he managed to pull Neil safely out of the electrified water and into a fierce embrace. Neil kept shrieking, and he squirmed frantically around, not seeming to recognize his surroundings at first.

"It's alright, Neil," Kevin assured him despite how hard his own heart was pounding. "I've got you."

"Oh..." Neil's body slackened, and he pulled back to blink slowly at Kevin, realization dawning in his eyes. His cheeks coloured with embarrassment and he ducked his head. "Uh, thanks."

Neither of them said anything else, for lack of ability or perhaps willingness to put it into words. After a moment, Kevin realized he was still holding the clover, and he handed it back to Neil, who took it with a dip of his head and a murmur of acknowledgement, and pinned it to his soaking wet t-shirt.

Somehow out of everything in the room, themselves included, that little scrap of plant matter was still intact. And although he wasn't superstitious, that simple fact was what would stick in Kevin's mind for the rest of the day, turning it over until he could only conclude: Yep, there's definitely something weird going on with that thing.

*

Despite the many months he'd prowled the city, this was the vigilante's first time in the hideout of a proper gang. It looked about the way he expected: dimly lit, no windows, weapons hung up on the wall and cigarette butts littering the floor. The gang members, dressed primarily in leather jackets with a few in denim, lounged in chairs leaning too far back, or on top of tables, or on their motorcycles parked right in the middle of the room. Most of them didn't even notice the vigilante as he approached. They were too caught up chattering and cackling amongst themselves like a nest of overgrown crows. The one gang member who did seem to notice the vigilante from the get-go simply looked up at him with raised eyebrows and addressed him once he got close enough to strike.

"Hey, haven't seen you around before. Looking to join the club?"

"Hardly," he snarled. "This whole place is crawling with criminals."

The whole room broke into laughter at that. The vigilante gritted his teeth, fists clenching at his sides. These people were different from the criminals he'd taken down before; between their numbers and all the weapons they had easy access to, they might just pose a serious threat if he wasn't careful.

"You're the ones, aren't you?" he went on once the laughter had died down and the gang members were all watching him with a mix of bemusement and curiosity. No trace of fear amongst them yet, but that would change... "Throwing bricks at innocent people, even seeking to damage their property. Absolutely detestable."

"Woah, hang on," another of the gang members cut in sharply, reaching for a weapon as they stood. "First off, the whole brick throwing thing was months ago. Second of all, we never did that to innocent people, you know!"

"Yeah!" yet another gang member cut in, pumping her fist in the air. "Only to those losers who blew up our boss!"

...Boss?

The vigilante slowly turned, a deeper chill than normal running down his spine, as a strangely familiar smug cackle echoed from behind him. He came face-to-face with a man in a tank top and baseball cap, sneering at him with his arms crossed. Max. Gulping, the vigilante took a step backward. He's their boss?

(How did he know that name? How had he known Wendy's name either, for that matter? Why, out of all the criminals in the city, did a select few ignite disproportionate resentment within him? He'd dealt with some of these people before, he knew, but when he tried to remember when and how it all just turned to slush in his brain.)

"Yep, those losers got what was coming to 'em," Max said. "Except not really, 'cause they didn't suffer enough. But it's okay, we'll get 'em extra hard next time."

"No..." For reasons he couldn't quite explain, the vigilante's voice shook with equal parts fury and sudden fear. "Don't you dare hurt them."

"Huh?" Max tilted his head, already slightly squinted eyes narrowing further. "Heyyy, wait a minute, aren't you one of--?"

Before he could finish that thought, the vigilante was upon him with a karate chop to the windpipe. It was a more reckless attack than he'd planned, and even as Max stumbled backward coughing, he could hear the rest of the gang grabbing their weapons and running up behind him. But it was fine; the vigilante could take them all on and then some. He could kill any number of people if it was for the sake of defending his friends.

(Friends? Did he have friends? Somehow it felt that he must have, once. But that was strange, because the only thing he could clearly remember himself ever being was a cold-blooded vigilante.)

*

"Don't you see? Society's the one to blame! It's society's fault that he had no choice but to become this way!"

As Kevin delivered this speech, waving his arms dramatically toward the focus of the scene, Neil spun the video camera around to point it toward himself. Hopefully the studio would think of the disorienting cinematography for this webisode as a bold artistic choice rather than thinking of it as amateurish and embarrassing. He then leapt back, breaking into maniacal laughter with his prop gun raised in the air. Under ideal circumstances, this role might have been better suited to Ryan, but... well, they couldn't stay hung up on him forever; they had a job to do.

"Eh-heh-heh! Thanks to society, I have the urge to kill!" Neil twirled around to show off his clown costume, while just out of frame, Kevin hastily put on a wig and fake mustache. "And now... I'll kill this innocent man, who's different than the guy who was talking a minute ago!"

(It was fascinating--fascinating and dumb--how a broken mirror and a bit of blood could set him off, but something as heavy as a gun in his hand only brought him the faintest twinge of discomfort, easily ignored for the sake of making a webisode. After all, as Kevin had assured him many times over the past few months, it was the gun and its villainous weilder who were to blame for what had happened to Ryan. On an intellectual level Neil knew that was true--and besides, if he hadn't deflected that bullet, all three of them would have died. But knowing that did nothing to redirect when and why the darkness in his brain manifested.)

Now, much to Neil's surprise as he took aim with his prop gun, Kevin shouted "Cut!" and walked across the abandoned lot they were filming in to turn the camera off.

Neil lowered the gun, confused, as his costar removed his costume with that now all-too-familiar look of concern etched across his face. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know... somehow I've just got a bad feeling about this," Kevin muttered. "Maybe try firing into the air a couple times first."

Neil complied, and was met with the expected result from the prop: a couple of clicks indicating an empty chamber. "You worry too much these days, Kev," he said as he fired one more blank into the sky and then lowered the prop again. "It's not a real gun; it can't--"

As he spoke, his finger accidentally pressed the trigger again, and he broke off with a yelp at the sudden burst of pain in his right foot. He dropped the apparently very real gun with a clatter and clutched at his injured appendage, losing his balance in the process. Kevin swore under his breath and rushed forward to catch him. Before his friend could reach him, Neil's other foot came down on a wide crack in the pavement. A chill ran through him, momentarily distracting him from the throbbing pain, but it passed as quickly as it arose without seeming to trigger any effects.

"By god, what's happening to you?" Kevin exclaimed as he grabbed Neil by the shoulders and held him upright. "You've been so unlucky lately, it... it almost seems like a curse."

"A curse?" Neil stiffened, but quickly forced himself to shrug and morphed his grimace into a dismissive eye-roll. "Pfft, what are you talking about? There's no curse! I've just been, y'know, having an off-day..."

"Neil." There was that concerned look again, that almost parental tone of voice, as Kevin stared him down and tightened his grip on Neil's shoulders. "A couple hours ago you almost died, and now... you can tell something weird is going on, right? And, look--" He sighed, gaze darkening. "I don't exactly know how to fix it, but whatever's happening, I can't just sit back and watch you succumb to it. I can't lose you, too, Neil... not after..."

He trailed off with a faint warble in his voice, lowering his head. Neil gulped, a heavy weight surfacing in his chest. It was true; though he hated to admit it, at this point it was hard to deny that he was cursed. And yet, even as his foot throbbed around the spot where the bullet was lodged and his shoe was slowly stained from within by his own blood, it was hard to convince himself that he should accept help. On some level, didn't he deserve this? Wasn't this a fitting comeuppance for getting one of his friends killed?

Yet here was his other friend, clutching at him ever tighter to the point where his grip on Neil's shoulders was nearly as painful as hitting his head or getting mildly electrocuted or shooting himself in the foot. I'm not the only one who lost Ryan, he reminded himself--another thing he knew perfectly well on an intellectual level, but easy to forget in practice. Kevin is hurting too. I shouldn't make him hurt any more.

"Fine, I admit it," he sighed, letting his tensed-up shoulders slump. "I'm unlucky, okay? And if you think it's possible--" He tore the clover off his shirt and glared down at it-- "then we're going to beat this thing."

*

For as tough as the gang presented themselves, it must have been most of these people's first time in an actual fight. The vigilante swerved to avoid weak punches, clumsy kicks, poor attempts at stabbing. It all blended together after a while, and he stopped thinking of the gang members as individuals; they were just an indistinguishable swarm of insects whose attacks were easily dodged. Unimportant, save for their leader.

The vigilante had Max pinned to the floor now, holding his thrashing form in place with one arm while he brought his other fist down on the ruffian's face, over and over, as hard as he could. Not every blow connected cleanly, and Max had managed to bite him several times already, but that was irrelevant. Criminals must be brought to justice. That was why the vigilante hated these people, wasn't it? Because they were criminals. Yes, what other reason could he have, when this was all he'd ever been?

And then, just as he managed to land a blow to Max's jaw that left him defiantly spitting out blood and a couple of teeth, the vigilante's spine snapped.

It took a moment for him to register what had happened. He just heard a loud crack, and a sharp pain shot through him, and suddenly he couldn't hold his legs in place and collapsed. Max wasted no time taking advantage; he delivered a kick to the vigilante's gut that sent him flying back across the room, where he hit a wall and slumped to the ground, gasping in breathless agony. At once the other gang members closed in on him. Grimacing, the vigilante drew himself up onto his hands and knees, then braced himself against the wall and, with a far greater strain of effort than expected, dragged himself upright. By the time he'd managed to get to his feet, dozens of knives were inches away from him.

Then, to his surprise, Max pushed through to the front of the crowd and held his arms out to hold back his underlings. "Nuh-uh, this one's mine," he told them, sneering as though oblivious to the blood dribbling from between his lips. "I said I'd get him twice tomorrow, and I meant it."

The vigilante flinched as Max took a swipe at him. But rather than a fist connecting with his face, he was met only with the shock of exposure as the bully grabbed his mask and triumphantly yanked it off his face. He was left dumbfounded, blinking, as his vision readjusted to the light.

Wait a minute, I remember--

And then came the punch, square in the nose. Ryan yelped, pressing his gloved hand over his nose to stop the bleeding. When he dodged another punch, his body failed to cooperate and he crashed to the ground again, back aching furiously and heart pounding against his ribcage.

How and why his back had broken, he couldn't say, but one thing was clear: he was horrendously outmatched. Max was saying something now, gloating as he advanced on Ryan with a dagger in his hands, but Ryan couldn't make out the words over the blood rushing in his head. Why on earth had he gotten into a fight like this in the first place? What was he doing? He had to get out of there!

With that thought, yet another thing happened that Ryan didn't entirely understand. (Ryan didn't understand, but the vigilante did. It was one of the few things the vigilante knew: dissolve, reform, enact ruthless vengeance, dissolve again.) His body shuddered, and suddenly he found his solid flesh and bone giving way to a slurry of blood and ice that slipped through the cracks in the floor and disappeared. Then he was formless, freefalling through the dark, or at least that was what it felt like. When he took shape again it felt like dragging himself out of quicksand. Yet when he raised his slowly resolidifying head and looked around, he found himself in the basement of his own home, staring up at the portraits of his ancestors that had started it all.

No. Not started it all. "I had a life before this," he whispered, voice raw with the shock of memory and too many months spent speaking in an inhuman growl. "My name is Ryan, I have a life and a job and friends, I..."

Yes, that's right. Friends. Where were they? He closed his eyes and tried to remember. Each recent memory that took form in his mind was accompanied by a crashing wave of guilt and regret, and soon his body shook and tears pricked at his wrenched-shut eyes. That's right... I became a vigilante, and I teamed up with such a horrible person, let him manipulate me, all because I was too afraid to go back and apologize. And then...

The last thing he remembered, just after the flash of light and shock of paralyzing cold, was the sound of a gunshot, something shattering, and Neil screaming.

"Oh, dear god," Ryan whispered. He raised his head, opening his eyes and lowering his hands from his newly tear-stained face, and sat back on his heels as though worshipping the paintings before him. "What have I become?"

*

The ropes were just slightly too tight around Neil's limbs to be comfortable; he couldn't resist squirming a little as Kevin laid out the open bible on the end table next to his proton pack and began reading from it.

"Okay, um, let's see... ex-or-ciz-amus te, omnis immunde spiritus..." He squinted at the yellowed, faded pages, biting his lip. "Omni satanica pot-es-tas, omnis incurs--incursio infernalis adversarii... uh..."

"You're doing great," Neil called from his position tied to the bed frame; Kevin gave him a weary smile and thumbs up.

As Kevin continued reciting the verse, occasionally stumbling over a particularly tricky Latin word, the room's temperature eventually dropped a few degrees. Neil shivered, but his heartbeat picked up in excitement. He could feel something stirring in his blood like ripples on a lake, and when the furniture in the room began to quiver, so too did his body in eager anticipation.

"...Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux..." A chill wind swept through the room; Kevin gritted his teeth, one hand pressing down on the bible to hold its pages in place while he grabbed his proton pack with the other. "Vade retro Satana! Nun-quam-suade mihi vana!"

The furniture rumbled louder. Neil's eyes widened as an entire bookcase lifted off the ground. "Kevin, watch out!"

"Hang on, Neil, I'm almost done. Uh, where was I... sunt mala quae libas..."

"No, Kevin, the--"

"Just one more line, okay? Ipse ven--"

"KEVIN!"

That last terrified yell was what it took for Kevin to finally turn, just in time to see the six-foot block of polished oak fly directly into him. Neil shrieked and thrashed against his bindings with all his might, but even if he weren't tied up, there was nothing he could have done. The bookcase came crashing down, its contents spilling out onto the floor around it in a flurry of paper. And when the dust settled, Kevin was pinned beneath it, unmoving.

"N... no..." Neil whimpered. Dread tightened like a noose around his throat as the horrible thought seeped into his mind: This is because of me. Now I've gotten them both killed.

"Oh, yes, what a tragedy... just your luck, isn't it?"

Neil's blood ran cold. He raised his head to see the translucent, smoke-shrouded figure of a giant clover looming over him. Its four leaves, dark green tipped with crimson and speckled with barnacles, opened down the middle to reveal a row of needle-sharp fangs. For a second, "Where did you come from?" was on the tip of Neil's tongue. But it was just as well that he was too terrified to speak, because no sooner than the question appeared in his mind, he realized the obvious answer. Oh, right. This is the demon that cursed me.

"Don't worry, your friend is alive... for now," the demon jeered. "But that could change. It's so easy for accidents to happen, you know?"

As if to demonstrate, the demon's leaves fluttered and suddenly a fire sprang up dangerously close to the scattered pile of books on the floor. When Neil screamed in protest, the demon laughed, and part of the ceiling gave in, sending down a controlled shower of debris to put out the fire before anything flammable could catch.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Neil exclaimed with a shake of his head; he'd be almost exasperated if he weren't so terrified. "You're really powerful and want to hurt people, geez, not exactly a challenging concept. So, what do I have to do?"

That question seemed to give the demon pause. "...Do?"

"You know, to appease you or whatever. If you're threatening me with Kevin's life, then there must be something you want from me, right?" An idea occurred to Neil just then, and his already hammering heart beat even harder, to the point where he hoped the demon couldn't hear it and tell how freaked out he was. "Hey, it must suck having to be a clover. What if a lawnmower or forest fire had gotten to you before I did? And if you like hurting people so much..." He paused, smirking as the demon leaned toward him with obvious interest. "Wouldn't it be easier just to possess my whole body instead of wasting time messing with my luck?"

"That's..." The demon hesitated, its leaves curling up in what looked like excitement. "Ah. Ah-ha-ha! You're a clever little mortal, aren't you?"

"But don't get it twisted," he put in, glaring defiantly up at the demon despite hardly being in a position to threaten anyone. "You have to promise not to hurt anyone else. Especially not Kevin."

"It's a deal!"

Before Neil could stop and reconsider whether this was really a good idea, the demon dove toward him, row of fangs wide open as though it were going to bite his head off. He flinched a split-second before something cold and stinging like nettles clamped around him.

When he opened his eyes again, the world was tinted dark green as if viewed through a dingy screen, his head felt hazy... and he couldn't move, at least not of his own volition. Even opening his eyes just then wasn't his decision. He heard himself cackle, felt his arms and legs flex far harder than he'd known he was physically capable of flexing, breaking the ropes that bound him to the bed frame and setting his body free to do whatever the demon wanted.

"Hah..." the demon muttered in his voice as it made him walk over to where Kevin lay, still trapped and unconscious. The demon knelt down and poked experimentally at Kevin's shoulder and forearm. "This one has more muscle. It might have been a better choice for possession, if it wasn't so damaged already..."

For one petrifying moment, the demon grabbed Kevin's head and stared intently at him, stretching Neil's face into a grin so wide it made his whole face ache, and Neil's mind raced with horrible thoughts of things the demon might make his own hands inflict upon his poor helpless friend. But the demon simply laughed and dropped Kevin, who let out a low groan as his head lolled to the side--an indication that at least he really was still alive. But all of a sudden Neil had trouble believing that small mercy was really worth it.

"Ah, well, this body will do," the demon decided. "Let's take it out on the town and see how long it lasts!"

*

This time when the vigilante materialized in Wendy's room, she did little more than roll her eyes and move to grab her baseball bat. However, rather than try to attack her or even growl out any threats, the vigilante took two shaky steps and then collapsed, catching himself against her dresser. Wendy's eyes widened as she took a closer look at his face. His mask was off now, revealing a pair of striking blue eyes glistening with obvious distress, cheeks flushed with exertion, and a streak of half-dried blood running from his bruised nose. And when he spoke, it wasn't in the gravelly tone she'd heard from him before, but in a quiet higher-pitched voice--almost a whimper.

"Please... tell me..."

Wendy hung back, caught between a sharp tug of sympathy in her heart and a very rational wariness based on their previous encounter. The vigilante tried to walk again, and again nearly fell; his face wrenched up and he let out a pained hiss. At that, sympathy won out over rationality. Wendy edged toward him with her baseball bat in hand, and when she was close enough, held it out to him.

"Hey, uh... here. It's not exactly medically sanctioned, but maybe you could use this like a cane?"

"Oh... good idea, thank you!" He broke into a grin, and Wendy shivered; somehow he was far scarier when his eyes were bright and cheerful. "Terribly sorry for how I treated you last time, by the way. I really wasn't myself."

"Uh-huh?" While the vigilante tested out the makeshift cane, Wendy sat down on her bed, arms crossed. "And who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Ryan... or at least I think I still am." His smile faltered, and he looked away, anxiously running a hand through his hair. It was starting to come unpinned, and his hat was askew; evidently he'd been through a lot in the few hours it had been since their first encounter. "It's been... strange, lately. I don't think I'm entirely human anymore, if I ever was. But I came back here because there's something I want to understand."

"You want to know why I ghosted your friend?" It was just a guess, but Ryan nodded; Wendy smiled privately to herself for having figured it out. "Alright, I can tell you..."

She uncrossed her arms and leaned back on her bed, thinking back to the disastrous date she'd gone on several months prior. It was a story she'd recited many times to friends, relatives, other first dates as sort of a half-joking warning ("So, as long as you don't blow it as much as that guy did, we should be good...") and the more she told it, the more warped and exaggerated it became within her memory. But when she really thought back on it now, it hadn't been so disastrous at all--pretty damn awkward, sure, but not even close to the worst date she'd been on.

"Kevin actually seemed really sweet," she recalled, smiling despite herself at the memory of his big dorky grin. "I would have gone on a second date with him. But then, first thing the next morning, I read in the news that some guy got arrested right outside the restaurant while we were on our date. And the criminal's name? Neil. Same name as the 'friend' Kevin had said was helping him out." She shrugged, lips twisting into a frown. "I just got kinda freaked out, you know? Like, 'oh geez, did I go on a date with a drug dealer or serial killer or something?' Of course it probably wasn't anything that serious, and pretending to be dead was probably an overreaction, but... well, what's done is done."

Wendy was so caught up in her own memories as she explained all this that she wasn't really observing Ryan's reactions. Once she concluded her story, she glanced over to find him sitting on the floor with his legs tucked up awkwardly beneath him, the baseball bat in his lap; he was staring at the floor, expression unreadable. He stayed like that for a long moment, not seeming to notice that Wendy had stopped talking, until she cleared her throat. Then he jumped to attention, eyes flashing like those of a woodland cryptid in headlights.

"Ah! Yes, of course... well, I still don't entirely understand, but I think I resent you less now." Ryan tilted his head and shot her another shiver-inducing grin. (Whether it was supposed to be threatening or not, she had no idea.) "And you're right; I almost forgot--we're all criminals too, Neil and probably even Kevin and especially myself! So how can I be a vigilante?" He answered his own rhetorical question with a shake of his head, manic grin softening into a melancholy smile. "It's ridiculous. I've been so foolish."

With that, his body began to ripple, losing a little of its solidity. But before he could break apart and dissolve through the floorboards like last time, a chirpy little beep-beep-beedle-beep noise rang out. Ryan's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced down at an accessory around his wrist... Wait, is that one of those communicator watches like the one Kevin had?

If it was, Ryan wasn't quick to answer it. He simply stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the beeping device in silence. Although she knew even less about Ryan than she knew about his apparently only slightly more normal friends, and she didn't normally care to get too involved in the personal affairs of strangers, he was still in the middle of Wendy's bedroom. And the longer that little jingle repeated, the more annoying it got. So she cleared her throat again and asked, in as polite a tone as she could manage given the circumstances,

"So, are you gonna answer that, or what?"

*

It was a stupid, pointless idea. Not an idea at all, really. Just the last scraps of... not even hope, that was pretty much deplenished at the moment, but effort. The effort not to let everything fall apart even further than it already had.

Kevin had woken with a throbbing pain throughout pretty much his whole body. Judging by the crushing weight pressing down on his torso, he was lucky to have woken up at all. The only parts of him not pinned down were his head and right arm, and even those hurt to move, though at least the spinning in his head put some degree of separation between himself and his broken body. Forget about trying to wriggle free when it hurt just to breathe.

So there he was, stuck, the shelf slowly crushing the air out of him, and Neil was gone. Where to, he didn't know. When he craned his neck he could see the empty bed frame, and the ropes broken and discarded at the foot of it. The bible he'd gotten from Ryan's house was facedown beside the tipped-over end table, next to a crushed and twisted lump of metal and plastic that he was horrified to recognize as his beloved proton pack. So wherever Neil was now, he must have still been cursed... or worse. And there was nothing Kevin could do about it.

Unless. Grimacing at the way his joints twinged, he raised his unpinned arm above his head. There on his wrist, perfectly intact despite everything he'd been through, was his communicator wristwatch. In all the hubbub of that day, he'd never gotten around to mentioning them to Neil, so his friend wouldn't be wearing his. But what if...?

It was stupid. It was pointless. There was no way in hell. But it was the only thing he could do. In a display so lacking in dignity that he was grateful nobody was around to see it, Kevin used his teeth and tongue for lack of a free hand to dial in the frequency and send off a signal. The watch's screen flashed in affirmation; he let his head flop against the floor with a weary sigh. Now all he could do was wait.

When he was at Ryan's house going through his things, and he found those communicator wristwatches, he'd only found two of them. And although that could have meant a dozen different things, there was just one wild, far-fetched possibility that any last semblance of hope now rested upon: that the third watch was missing because Ryan was alive, and he was still wearing his.

He didn't expect to get a response. By the time he did, he was struggling to stay awake--funny thing, trying to breathe with fifty pounds of wood pressed directly on your chest really takes it out of you. But he snapped to attention, or the closest he could get when his head was swimming and his body was beginning to go numb from lack of circulation, the moment he heard that voice crackling through the speaker.

"H-hello? Kevin?"

The relief that coursed through his veins was so overwhelming, especially on top of everything else, that he could only laugh--only for it to quickly turn into hacking as his ribs offered a sharp jab of protest. He raised his sleeve to wipe away a streak of blood that dribbled from his lips before speaking into the watch.

"Ryan. Where are you?" He regretted wasting time with that question the moment he asked it; he could tell from the way his organs felt like they were curling in on themselves as he spoke that he didn't have the energy for a full conversation. So before Ryan could stammer out a proper response, Kevin continued: "Neil is in trouble. You've gotta help him."

"What?" The shrill uptick of anxiety in Ryan's voice was palpable, and even just hearing that voice in and of itself stirred up a whole miasma of feelings that there was no time to properly react to. "What's going on? Are you okay? You sound--"

"I'm fine," Kevin lied through gritted teeth. "And... I don't know exactly where Neil is, but I know he's in trouble." A choking mix of emotions and his own blood swelled in his throat as his slowly blurring gaze wandered to the facedown bible. "I've tried to do some stuff today that I couldn't do without you. I-- we need you, Ryan. So, please... help."

With that final plea, something broke within him like a dam that he hadn't even realized was cracking. His arm flopped to the ground, wrist landing near his ear, where the communicator watch kept emitting Ryan's voice as it slowly rose in pitch until he was almost shouting. But even as his friend called frantically out to him, Kevin found it harder to make out the words. He groaned, letting his head loll to the side and his eyes fall shut. The last sensation he was aware of as darkness closed around him was that there was something wet on his face.

*

"Kevin, are you still there? Hello? Kevin!"

He wasn't responding. Why wouldn't he be responding, if the situation was so urgent? Maybe because he couldn't respond. Because he was--

"What are you going to do?" Wendy's voice cut into the swirl of panic Ryan was rapidly descending into. She hovered over his shoulder, peering down at the watch with wide, anxious eyes. The watch's screen had gone dark. No signal. Yes, indeed, what to do?

"What else? I have to save Neil."

If Kevin didn't know where Neil was, then there was no way that Ryan should have been able to instantly find him. But when he closed his eyes and let his vigilante instincts take over, he found that he didn't have to know where someone was. Whatever dark magic was infused in him now, letting him exist in this not-quite-human state even after what should by all accounts have been his death, it was hardwired for vengeance. And saving Neil meant exacting vigilante justice on whoever or whatever was harming him. With that in mind, the vigilante dissolved in a flurry of blood-tinted ice and reformed seconds later in the place it somehow knew it needed to be.

The first thing Ryan noticed when he appeared on the rooftop was the storm brewing overhead. He raised his eyebrows at that; earlier that day there hadn't been a cloud in the sky--and for that matter, when he looked around, it appeared that most of the sky was still perfectly clear, with the storm clouds being localized around this building. The second thing he noticed, upon peering over the edge of the roof, was that he wasn't on just any rooftop, but a skyscraper that towered above every other building in the vicinity. Lastly, he noticed a flagpole at the far corner of the rooftop, several feet away from him. And that was when his gaze fell upon Neil.

Neil was laughing as he swayed back and forth, clad in a brightly patterned jacket that wasn't his usual style at all, his arms and legs wrapped tight around the tall metal pole. Above him, the dark clouds lit up in a flash, followed almost instantly by a rumble of thunder. Although these particular stormclouds didn't come with rain, Ryan shivered. An incredulous exclamation was on the tip of his tongue (What on earth are you doing, stop it, you'll be killed!) when Neil locked eyes with Ryan, and he realized with a jolt of horror that this wasn't Neil at all--his body, yes, but someone or something else was controlling it. His mouth was stretched into a grin far wider than what a human face could normally achieve, and rather than their usual brown, his eyes glowed a sickly shade of green.

"Why, if it isn't my dear friend Ryan!" Neil--or whatever was piloting him--called, raising one arm off the pole in an exaggerated wave. "Oh boy, the guy I got this body from is sure surprised to see you alive! And as much as I'd love to send you plummeting off the edge of this building, I did promise not to hurt anyone else, so..." He waved his hand in a circle, unnaturally glowing eyes crinkling with amusement. "How about instead I pull you in a little closer so you can get a nice good look when your friend's body fries?"

With that, a sudden gust of wind blew into Ryan from behind, sending him stumbling forward. When he attempted to regain his footing, his broken spine betrayed him once again and he flopped to the ground with an undignified oof just a few feet away from the base of the flagpole. Grimacing, he pushed himself up and crawled the remaining short distance to grab Neil's ankle. As he did so, he noticed there was a bloodstained hole in his friend's shoe, and that his pant leg was slightly damp and already bore a few singe marks. Between that and whatever had happened to Kevin... he shuddered at the thought of what his friends had gone through in his absence.

"Nice try, vigilante," the thing in Neil's body jeered. "But I've gotta say, you don't pose much of a threat since I broke your spine."

He stomped his other foot down on Ryan's hand; Ryan yelped and instinctively released his grip. And at the very instant he let go, in such perfectly unlucky timing that only a supernatural entity could orchestrate, the stormclouds above them opened up with a searing, crackling, blindingly bright lighting strike.

Neil tilted his head back and laughed at the top of his lungs as countless volts of electricity tore through him. That horrendous laughter drowned out Ryan's screams of protest, not that there was anything he could do anyway in his current state, when he couldn't so much as get to his feet. All he could do was lay there and gape in horror as Neil's body shuddered and his flesh began to sizzle and burn.

Though it felt like an eternity of torture, the lightning strike couldn't have lasted for more than a few seconds. When it ended, Neil dropped like a ragdoll into Ryan's arms. Ryan, too stricken to even check for a pulse, simply stared blankly into his friend's glazed-over eyes. Then Neil blinked, and his eyes were glowing green again, and he laughed, the sound rougher now that it was being produced by a charred set of lungs.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha! I wasn't expecting this body to survive that! Can you believe Neil is still kicking in here?" He tapped a finger against his head, then sat up with a playful kick of his legs. "...Or is he? It would be just like a demon to lie, wouldn't it?" He grabbed Ryan's chin with his burnt and blackened fingernails and forcefully tilted his head up so their gazes met. "You can't tell, can you, vigilante? So, how hard are you willing to throw your broken body around to try and save someone who might already be toast? Maybe you should just give up and go on with your day, hmm?"

While the demon taunted him, Ryan's mind raced to concoct a plan. Some miraculous last-minute solution that would fix everything... Neil would be able to think of one. Perhaps he already had. But that wouldn't do them any good when Neil was trapped and helpless within his own mind. If this really was a demon, and a powerful one at that, the only thing that might work was an impromptu exorcism.

"Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux! Vade retro Satana!" Reciting the passage from memory as rapidly as he could without tripping over his tongue, Ryan grabbed Neil by the wrists and held him tight while he hissed and tried to jerk away. "Nunquamsuade mihi vana! Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas!"

An ungodly noise somewhere between a shriek and a roar erupted from Neil as he tossed his head back and convulsed. It was far too visually similar for comfort to his electrocution less than a minute prior, and Ryan wondered if the demon was doing it that way on purpose in an attempt to scare him into stopping. If so, it wouldn't work. Even if this process was as painful for Neil as it was for the demon possessing him, it had to be done.

Sure enough, as the final line of the chant echoed across the rooftop, Neil shuddered and slumped to the ground next to Ryan. When their gazes met this time, the demonic glow was gone, but Neil was breathing fast and shallow and his eyes were wide with lingering terror.

"Ryan," he whispered. "You're... alive."

"I think so," he replied with a tentative smile. "It's all a little confusing. But we're going to be okay now, Neil."

However, no sooner had those words left his mouth than Neil stiffened up again, eyes momentarily flashing green. "No," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head as if to dispel the demon's grasp. "Not yet. Still gotta... get rid of it..." He grabbed Ryan's hands and held them desperately tight, like a scared child clinging to their parent or older sibling. His eyes flashed once more, and this time when the glow faded, his face bore a strained smile. "I've got an idea. Ryan, don't freak out."

And with that, before Ryan could process what was happening and reach out to stop him, Neil sprung to his feet and took a running leap off the edge of the building.

*

For a while now, Neil had been having unusually vivid dreams. They weren't always nightmares, but they often were. Dreams about different worlds, different realities, different lives. Ones where him and Kevin and Ryan weren't all friends. Or worse, ones where they still were, but that wasn't enough to save them. One of those recent dreams, which began as an exciting fantasy only to devolve into a nightmare, was about some kind of flying vehicle. Ever since having that dream, Neil had made two vows to himself. Firstly, that as soon as he gathered the funds to afford it, he'd go back to school and complete his aeronautical engineering degree. Secondly, to always carry a parachute, just in case.

But the demon possessing him had no way of knowing that, now did it? And it wouldn't want to still be trapped inside a host body that was splattered all over the pavement. That was what Neil was banking on, at least. Otherwise he might really be in trouble.

As he fell, a stinging sensation rippled through his body. He shuddered, yet there was a smile on his face--no longer a grin stretched unnaturally wide, but an expression of his own volition--and his heart pounded not with terror but with exhilaration and boundless relief. Sure enough, the demon leapt forth from him and departed in a swirl of green smoke. And with it gone, he wasted no time in engaging the parachute--just in time to slow his acceleration enough that the fall wouldn't kill him.

Admittedly, he didn't exactly come down gracefully. He landed in a tangle of limbs and fabric that he had to shrug off the borrowed jacket, parachute and all, in order to escape, and the landing was just rough enough to deliver a painful reminder of the electrical burns covering the better part of his body. Still, Neil couldn't stop grinning as he gingerly picked himself up and dusted himself off. He was alive and no longer possessed; that was a win in his book.

When he craned his neck to look up at the roof, he thought he saw Ryan still sitting there. Neil grimaced as he recalled what the demon had said about breaking Ryan's back; hopefully that injury was undone with the demon being vanquished, but since Neil's injuries were still there, maybe that wasn't so. Either way, he couldn't just leave his friend up there alone.

As quickly as he could run with a bullet wound in his foot, he entered the building and took the closest elevator to the rooftop. But by the time the elevator chimed and its doors slid open, the rooftop was abandoned, with no sign of Ryan save for an abandoned hat, cape, and gloves, and a slowly fading dark red stain.

*

If Kevin hadn't already been surprised to wake up alive the first time, he sure as hell was now. The only reason he knew he was alive at all was the deep, persistent ache that wracked practically his entire body. That, and the warmth of the hand laid atop his own.

Forcing his eyes open with a pained groan, he turned his head to see the man sitting at his bedside. Ryan squeezed his hand and flashed him a sad smile when their eyes met. His vigilante costume was gone, traded for a simple dress shirt and tie, and his hair fell unpinned around his visibly tired face; the chair he sat in, upon closer inspection, was an old-fashioned wheelchair.

With some effort, Kevin pushed himself into a sitting position. Looking around, he found that he was laying on the couch in the living room with his chest bandaged. How Ryan had managed to pull him out from beneath the bookcase, he had no idea, but he sure wasn't going to complain about it.

"Ryan, you... you're hurt?" It was a stupid question--why else would he be in a wheelchair? "Did the demon...?"

"It's gone now," Ryan responded. "But..." His gaze lowered, and he dropped his hands into his lap to fidget with the blanket draped over his legs. "It was a costly victory, I'm afraid. In order to defeat the demon, Neil--"

His tearful speech was interrupted by the distant bang of the front door being thrown open.

"Geez, you could've told me you were going straight home!" Neil's indignant voice rang out down the hall. "I wandered all over town looking for you."

Ryan's head snapped up, and he and Kevin turned in unison to see their friend running toward them with a slightly crooked gait. With a cry of joyous disbelief, Ryan opened his arms, and Neil tackled him in an embrace that nearly sent him toppling over; Kevin had to lean forward to grab the back of Ryan's chair to keep him upright as he and Neil clung to each other.

"Neil, you're alive! I-I thought..."

"It's okay, Ryan," said Neil. Then, pulling back and glancing at Kevin with a melancholy smile: "I think we're all going to be okay."

*

"So, what do you think?"

As the ending credits rolled on their latest webisode, Neil and Kevin turned to face Ryan with matching expectant grins.

"Well..." Ryan drummed his fingers against the keys of the laptop and tried to think of something positive to say. "The costumes you used were a lot more fashionable than usual--wait, hold on. Weren't those my clothes?"

They were in Kevin's truck parked outside the studio's headquarters, with Neil in the passenger seat and Ryan in the back. It had taken a little over a week for them to recover to the point where they could comfortably climb inside a vehicle, let alone Kevin being able to actually drive, and the studio had already sent them several notes warning them that their pay would be docked for submitting their webisode behind schedule.

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that," Kevin muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"To be fair, if he hadn't broken into your house and stolen a bunch of stuff from you, he couldn't have called you on your communicator watch," Neil interjected cheerfully. "Or tried to do an exorcism... but I guess that didn't really work out for him anyway."

"Hey, c'mon, it wasn't stealing!" Kevin gave Neil a gentle shove, prompting him to briefly wince but laugh anyway. "If we'd known you were still alive, we wouldn't have taken your stuff, Ryan, honest."

"Ah, I'll have to remember that for next time," Ryan quipped. He closed the laptop and handed it back to Neil, who tucked it away inside an oversized shoulder bag. "Well, that may not have been the best webisode we've made, but I can tell you two did your best."

"Yeah, it'll be way better once we get back to making them as a trio," Neil said.

It was still amazing to Ryan that his friends were so quick to accept him back after all he'd done. If anything, it made him feel worse about his prolonged absence, because he knew now that he could have come back at any point and they would have been glad to have him. It was easy to fall into regret when thinking of all that had gone wrong, and all that could easily have gone even worse. But the fact was, they were together again now--altered by what they'd gone through, and not entirely for the better, but still themselves.

And despite it all, the preceding events and the possibility that another horrible thing could happen to them in the future, he found himself agreeing with Neil's hopeful statement.

"Indeed..." Ryan reached out and took Neil and Kevin's hands in his own. They smiled back at him with the same residual traces of relief in their eyes that Ryan had felt every so often over the past week--relief that they were still there to smile at each other. "Gentlemen, I look forward to working with you again."

¤--END--¤

[geekys-corner]

Mind listing the OCs/personas and a couple facts about them? (Might help with questions lol)

Sure! I’ve written 16 below lmao *sticks in a read more*

Anthony - Originally my version of Anti, he’s now a sweet bean who really likes plants. In his backstory and the start of his story, he was found in a tiny pocket dimension inside his old apartment while he and the place around him fell into disrepair with the only thing truly alive being his plants. After losing his entire family, he was very fragile and hurt himself quite a bit, but my other characters rescued him and nursed him back to health and stability!

Onyx - My angsty punk dude who I adore. He is on the autistic spectrum and is mostly non-verbal, once going 4 months without speaking before breaking the silence to tell his best friend that Viggo Mortenson broke his toe in that one scene in Lord of the Rings. They have a twin sister who is 13 minutes older and a firm witch while he is a firm nonbeliever. Sometimes he goes to the junkyard with a baseball bat to let out their anger.

Leon - His backstory is very dark so I won’t get into it, but he’s a very shy bean with one arm and a love for sewing. He has the fluffiest light pink hair, and is just the embodiment of pastel.

Kyle - The older brother of the duo! He’s friends with Onyx and also has a punk look with spiked blue hair, but he’s an absolute sweetheart! He’s eight years older than his brother, and ran away with him when he was a newborn to escape their abusive mother. He raised Joey on his own in the streets, escaping care systems that would split them apart and shove them in to foster homes, and grew up to be completely independent, albeit unaware of what it is like to have a loving family besides his brother. He may be quick to resort to fight or flight to protect his brother and grumpy to strangers, but he’s built them a good life!

Joseph - The little brother! Joey is a smart little kid, (ranging from 10 - 14 depending) with very bright ginger hair and freckles. He’s on the far side of the autistic spectrum and is completely nonverbal, but he’s very expressive, spunky, and loving whenever he’s able to. He adores peanut butter and milkshakes, and would very happily have them six times a day. While he can’t speak, he will send Kyle countless facts from astronomy or marine life through text at any time of day or night. He’s always seen in his blue skateboarding frog hoodie, a beetle backpack filled with his supplies, and his headphones and tablet. He loves to draw and he’s great at it, and always draws sharks, especially whale sharks.

Caelan - Another punk, but this time in bird form. He is a griffin, and in some AUs a dude with prosthetic feet. He has messy blond hair covering his eyes and is based around an Egyptian falcon. He’s very quick witted and very annoying to people who don’t know him, but would go to hell and back for his family. 

Marioma - The model of a modern major general- this dude is the only one like him, meaning he has no AU counterparts! He’s different from my other characters since he’s technically self-aware, and acts in my stories if and when I want him to! He’s a grumpy, determined dude who’s trying to quit smoking per request of his boyfriend, Arthur. Before him, he was a sly, hardened, and cunning man who needed someone to rely on who wouldn’t die on him.

Arthur - Foster fails: 5. He owns a bookstore in the universe he inhabits and, just like Mari, he’s one of a kind! He lives the ideal rainy city aesthetic, with an apartment above his store with open windows, plants, cosy blankets and homemade food, handmade clothing, and animals. He’s got curly hair and his scarf is his comfort item, and he takes in animals if and when he can. He and Mari just live a comfortable life :’)

Clyde - A duo with Anthony, he was originally a version of Henrik, but is now completely different. This boy is a classic OC and therefore my teenage angst punching bag. He’s a doctor in his husband Lucas’ mafia, and is very strong-willed and the biggest sweetheart. He has water powers that I always forget about, and could very easily drown someone if he wanted to. Besides that, he does cry a lot over small things, and Lucas has walked in on him crying over their cat in a business-tie.

Levi - If he and Clyde fused, they’d make Henrik. He’s my 55 year old doctor who just the embodiment of grumpy cat and expresso. He’s very lanky and has joint problems after trauma in his late 20s, and sometimes you can hear his bones cracking as he walks. He has, can, and will slap the sense into Clyde when he needs to and hated him to begin with, but warmed up to him. But, he’s completely different to his husband Sage, and in the end, is a very caring guy who won’t take any shit. He’s also therapist, and gives sessions to most of my OCs- (he’s also the doctor at the end of Don’t Leave! Dr Allison!)

Tyrell (Cloak) - So I split the same OC into two halves, essentially from two AUs but in one? They’re not twins, they’re the same guy with separate families but they’re the same. They’re both POC with the same face, hair texture etc. Cloak-Ty is very grumpy, and is called Cloak because of the cloak he wears in his fantasy-based AUs! He wears an eye patch and lost his eye depending on the AU, and went through a lot. You can tell he’s angsty because half of his hair is buzzed off. He tried to push away his now-husband Demitri, but luckily he’s an absolute himbo who doesn’t know when to quit, and eventually melted through the icy layer to a loving, sarcastic, hard-working man.

Tyrell (Ponytail) - Same as above description wise! He’s taller and buff with a ponytail. He went through the same backstory, but was found by Daniel who took him to Lucas’ mafia where they recovered together and eventually fell in love. Half of his face is badly burned and the eye has pin-hole vision, but it doesn’t stop him from being the best sniper on the team. When at home, he loves tea, hanging with his family, and painting. He’s amazing at watercolour and earns money on the side from selling his work! Sometimes he and Dan team up and draw together!

Bloodbranded:

Wayde - He lives in the Winter Forest Region and hunts for his family with his exceptional archery skills. He’s witty and pretty spontaneous, making him good under pressure, but incredibly reckless. He has a bad claw scar across his right eye which cuts into his hair, but he can see just fine! He has beautiful green eyes with central heterochromia, so they turn brown in the centre. While he may be annoying and hot-headed, he cares a whole bunch and grows as a person to fall in love with Milo. He’s a hopeless romantic and protective as all hell, even when Milo can handle himself just fine.

Felicity - She wasn’t born in the WFR like Wayde, she was adopted by her two mothers and is Wayde’s cousin! She’s a POC with beautiful dark skin, and her parents style her hair in unique braids that are decorated by gold rings. She’s a magic user and a very skilled one at that, even when she’d just started out, and wishes to revive the old form of magic that had been taken over by the modern, corrupted magic form that’s based entirely on nepotism. She uses a staff and a book, and is clumsy to start out, but soon becomes a mage to be admired, or feared if you’re an enemy!

Milo - Unlike Felicity and Wayde, he was born in the desert region, and ends up in the WFR by mistake (which is a vast change in temperature for him). Because of the contrast in temperature, he’s always wrapped up in winter clothes, even in places where the others are sleeveless, just because he’s spent his whole life in the heat! When he’s at home, he lives with his Mother and goes out to collect lightning glass after the nightly storms to sell and turn into jewellery or windows etc. Milo was born deaf and uses sign language to communicate. He’s smart, energetic, and excited to see new things, but can handle himself with ease, and knows how to take care of himself through quick thinking and fighting skills from living in the desert. When he and Wayde start dating, he likes coming up behind him and cuddling him or giving him quick kisses!

Prism - Much like their name, they are very colourful. They are a dragon hybrid and live in a kingdom of others like them, but unlike any other dragon, their scales are - like their name - prisms. They gradient between rainbows across their body, but each scale has a rainbow shimmer when they move. Their wings are like stained glass, and their hair (as of now, it might change) is like labradorite! Prism is mute and doesn’t express much, usually communicating through eye rolls. They live as the King’s new heir after he took them in as he believes Prism is the symbol of their kingdom and species’ beauty. Because of this, they are completely untouched by any blade and don’t have a single blemish or scar as to preserve them. Many guards have died to prevent them from obtaining even the slightest scratch. Beyond their anxiety, they join the crew and act as the voice/sign of reason! Even if they are assigned to their kingdom, they soon learn that their friends truly care about them more than their appearance.

That’s most of my OCs, this is already super long so I don’t want to drag it on! If anyone is interested in any OC, feel free to drop an ask, I’d love to write one shots or answer questions! <3 ^^

[epic-potato-crisp]

Courtship - Part 3 (AjinWeek21/1)

Notes: So I decided to continue this for Ajin Week 2021! (although I was torn between making this a Sato fic cause you know. Hat.)

Day 1: Favorite character / summer break/ hat

Favourite character: Both Kei and Kou are among my favourite characters, Kei especially is one of my favourite protagonists of all time, and summer break, because this place during the sweltering time that is training camp. (fun! :D)

————————-

“Really?” Kei asks with growing annoyance as the vampire movie plays out on the screen in front of them. “Really?!”

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen that!” Kou defends himself, depositing the bowl of chips into Kei’s lap so his hands are free to adjust the volume.

“This is not what I had in mind when I agreed to…well, dating you.” Kei says, lowering his volume at the last three words that seem a little too foreign too pronounce.

“Why not?” Kou replies, “Movie nights are a super normal thing to do, not even for a date-“ He in comparison, has zero trouble adequately naming their current situation – “or with friends!” He smirked, which could never mean anything good: “Which you’d know, if you had any-“ Kou winces as Kei’s elbow rams into his side.

“I did have friends.” Kei grumbles through his teeth, stretching out his feet over the old and battered, but still quite comfortable couch. This is, surprisingly, afar more relaxing activity than he had initially anticipated.

Even if the movie is grating on his nerves.

“Why is everyone trying to befriend her?” he asks, exasperatedly. Bella Swan had made it perfectly clear that she was not interested in socializing from the moment she had arrived in her father’s rainy suburban town. And yet, in the first half an hour, not only had her childhood best friend shown up, she’d also been introduced to numerous classmates and faculty, and on top of that, was subtly encouraged to take a glance at a family of – vampire’s, that was his most likely prediction based on what he’d heard of the plot.

“Well, she’s new and people wanna get to know her. Nothing wrong with that.” Kou said diplomatically.

“Ugh.” Kei groans, and takes a sip of his coke. Eriko had always tried to make him watch these movies, which, if he was correct, were five in number, because apparently it was no enough to have a fourth movie. No, it had two be dragged out across two volumes. So far, he had been able to avoid it. Until training camp.

“Which you’d know, if you’d had-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Kei snaps, and the mood sours for a moment.

“Right, right, I’m sorry.” Kou says, after a beat of silence, and then his hand reaches over to grasp Kei’s.

“Is that really necessary?” Kei mutters, feeling his cheeks heat up. He prays that the darkness of the room, only lit up faintly by the TV, serves as enough cover.

“Well, it’s a date, right?”

“Stop saying that all the time.”

“Date. Date. Daaate.” Kou sing-songs, grinning at Kei knowingly.

The latter glowers: “Are you in elementary school?”

Kou laughs. He still doesn’t let go of Kei’s hand.

Kei feels his heartbeat quicken, ever so slightly, nervousness manifesting in the pit of his stomach. He chalks it up to the unfamiliar situation. After all, he really doesn’t know whether the movie will provide suitable entertainment for the next one and a half hours. There is no way it has anything to do with Kou.

At least, it shouldn’t.

“If you could choose between being a vampire and an Ajin, what would you pick?” Kou asks, out of the blue.

The movie had ended just a little while ago, a pointless two hours and six minutes of a supernatural romance that Kei couldn’t care less for. It was a little past ten, and they were not finished for a long while, apparently, if the cover for the second movie, blinking traitorously in Izumi’s streaming library, was anything to go by.

“Not this again.” Kei sighs, “Do you spend all day on these unlikely scenarios?”

“It’s that not unlikely.” Kou argues, “Come on, a few years back, you didn’t even know Ajin existed! And now you’re one!”

“Of course I knew they existed. It’s part of the school curriculum.” Kei deadpans, this particular lesson still rather unsettlingly fresh in his memory.

“Which you’d know if you’d gone to school.” He adds, acidly.

“Wow, harsh.” Kou pouts, “I did go. I just…dropped out. There’s a difference. Everyone knows that.” He mumbles.

“Keep telling yourself that” is on the tip of Kei’s tongue, but he swallows it down, if only to retain the peace. And perhaps because he would feel the tiniest bit guilty further prodding at that sore spot.

But school is something he does not want to think about for a good while again. The memory brings only pain. Betrayal from his classmates, from teachers, a jealousy- one that Kou would never be able to comprehend - on missing out on education that is a given for his former classmates.. A High School degree that he will never receive, if the government has any say in it, after all the years and effort, the hours of studying and revising he has put into it. A bleak future with all paths to prestigious medical universities blocked irreversibly. His only crime had been crossing that road that day. If only I could be reborn, Kei thinks miserably, then I could get a new chance. chance. He is in dire need of a new identity. Perhaps he can later guilt Tosaki into creating one for him.

“So circling back to the topic at hand, vampires.” he says, reluctantly.

“Heck yeah.” Kou agrees, excitedly, “So?”

“There are pros and cons on both sides.” Kei shrugs, “If you were a vampire, you wouldn’t be able to age and have a career, build a reputation. You’d have to get a new identity every few years. That sounds like a hassle. And don’t get me started on the…blood lust.”

The vampires and even humans in the movie had looked hungry in a completely different way whenever that topic came up. As though sucking your body’s circulatory system dry was desirable under any circumstance. Kei shuddered at the thought.

“You mean, you wouldn’t be able to build a family, live out your life with your friends, that kinda stuff?” Kou asks.

“I was referring to the important things, but I suppose.” Kei says loftily.

“Yeah, well, you’re wrong about that. Even vampires enjoy having relationships.” Kou argued.

“Debatable.”

“Bella seems pretty happy with the Edward guy.” his teammate emphasizes, “No matter if he’s a vampire or not.”

“But it is going to be a problem in the future.” Kei argues, “Honestly, she should have just stayed with Jacob and been done with it. It’s a suitable match, why put in any extra effort? She’s just going to grow old while he stays young forever.”

“Figures you’d go with the childhood best friend.” Kou mutters, flicking crumbs of his trousers.

“What?”

But Kou – strangely, for once in his life- doesn’t seem to haven an emergent need to elaborate further on the matter.

Kei probably should have said something a long time ago.

Perhaps he should have stopped Kou from starting the blasted second movie, but “Kei, it’s not that late! And how else will you know how it ends?” (Apparently, never was not a viable option.)

So here they are, sitting through another two hours of what Kou calls an “iconic classic” and Kei under his breath refers to as trash, but not the recyclable kind.

The cinematography is stunning, he has to admit begrudgingly, and the plot, albeit ridiculous, still manages to draw him in enough for him to forego his plans of turning the movie off several times, which is quite bothersome.

Well, fine then, Kei thinks to himself, at least now if Eriko badgers him about those movies again, he can give her a detailed review of every single logical error he has discovered so far.

He is considering starting a list, just so as to have some backup proof. His little sister’s education doesn’t have to suffer any more than it already had.

“Is she really going to sit around for months and wait for him to come back?” Kei complains, grabbing a fist full of popcorn from the bowl Hirasawa had made for them, “That’s a complete waste of time.”

“I don’t know, don’t you think some people are worth waiting for?” Kou threw in, giving Kei a knowing -sort-of-look that he couldn’t place.

It was the first sentence he had spoken in a while. Apart from his rambling monologue to get Izumi to join them a while prior when she came in to check if the streaming service was working.

“Did you see these movies already, Izumi-san?” Kou had asked and Kei surely hadn’t imagined the blush pinkening her cheeks.

“Oh, those? Just…once.” she’d replied, her voice sounding a little too high-pitched for that to be true, “It all seems fine, so I should get going-“

“Ah, already? Take a seat, take a seat!” Kou says generously, gesturing to the couch, “You need a break too, right?”

And Izumi did, albeit only tentatively on the edge. “I’ll be gone in a few minutes.” she promises.

She lied. Fifteen minutes later, she is still there and Kei doesn’t have the heart to kick her out, despite this being a a date, as he not so subtly communicated to Kou via verbal cues – all of which the other successfully ignored -but then, he bitterly thought, what chance did their pseudo-trial stand against Kou’s immortal woman of his dreams?

His thoughts screech to a halt. What does he even care what Kou thinks about either of them? It was all beyond ridiculous.

“It depends on how long you’re waiting for them.” Kei says, in response to Kou’s earlier question, “What about you, Izumi-san?”

“I think some relationships are worth preserving.” Izumi replies meaningfully, but right before she can say anything else, her phone goes off, the Caller-ID flashing with a familiar name.

“It seems Tosaki-san needs my assistance.” she says, barely concealing a wistful sigh, “Have fun you two.”

“He really needs to stop working you to the bone.” Kou complains.

Kei has the decency to feel guilty about the relief that settles in him when she leaves.

The motorcycle ride looks engaging. An activity Kei himself wouldn’t mind doing, seeing as there was zero risk involved to his safety with his newfound Ajin status.

As he verbalizes all of this, Kou gives him yet another of these knowing looks.

“Well, you were always one for motorcycles, weren’t you?” he says, tone bordering on smug.

Kei frowns. “Where did you get that idea from? I’ve only ridden one so far, but that was with Kaito.”

“I know.” Kou says, and then downs the rest of his coke.

“Refill?” he asks, holding out his hand for Kei’s glass.

“Sure.” Kei says, passing it over. He eyes Nakano skeptically, for any hint as to why his demeanor kept fluctuating.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” Kei cautiously takes the glass from him. Their fingers brush, lingering just a second too long to be casual. Kei notices how the tips of Kou’s ears redden and uses his momentary distraction to his advantage.

“You really hate that Jacob guy, don’t you?”

Judging by the look on his teammate’s face, he hit the nail on the head.

“I, uh, well hate is a kinda strong word.” Kou hesitates, stumbling over words, “He’s just not my favourite.”

“Really?” Kei asks, raising an eyebrow. In all honesty, he isn’t very interested in either of the characters, but psychoanalyzing Kou is what gives the evening its spice.

“Why is that so surprising?” Kou pouts.

“Because he’s just the same sort of muscle-brained idiot that you are.” Kei responds, gracing Kou with an exasperated look, before turning back to the movie.

“Oh.”

His words seemed to have had a profound effect on his teammate. Whatever sort of enlightenment had reached Kou, it had visibly brightened his mood.

“He is, isn’t he.” Kou says, with a small laugh.

“I don’t know why that is so surprising.”

“Guess I never thought of it that way.”

Which was exactly why it fit so well, Kei thinks to himself. Kou looks positively thrilled with the new discovery. As much as it pains to admit him, a lot remains about his teammate that he still doesn’t understand.

“I think he might be becoming my new favourite character.” Kou says, conspiratorially, sliding closer to Kei and slinging arm around him.

As the movie goes on, Kei starts to feel more and more tired. The comfortable atmosphere and the constant stream of voices from the TV serve to lull him a sleepy state. “Wake me up when they reach Italy.” he mumbles, the exhaustion of another day spent training finally catching up with him.

Kou mumbles an affirmative, and that’s where Kei’s memory cuts off.

The next thing he knows, someone is prodding at him from the side, instructing him to wake up.

“Fine, five more minutes.” Kei says, swatting the offending hand away.

He blinks as he comes too, shielding his eyes against the sudden brightness of the room.

The movie has ended, but even if hadn’t, Kei wouldn’t have been able to see much of the screen.

Not with Tosaki blocking their view.

“It’s almost 1 am.” he informs them through clenched teeth, “Get upstairs before I sever the internet connection.”

It’s a substantial threat. Substantial enough to briefly distract Kei from the fact that he had fallen asleep right on top of Kou.

“Fuck.” Kei swears under his breath, sitting up straight.

His teammate seems less perturbed.

“You missed the ending.” is all Kou has to say for himself, with a shit-eating grin.

(“It really is pointless.” Kei whispers, later that night, as they are both lying in Kou’s bed, a hair-brained decision that Kei blames his tiredness for.

“The whole being with a vampire. She can’t be, unless someone turns her into one, but that would be the epitome of a ridiculous clishé".

“…”

“Oh God, please tell me I’m wrong.”)