#so she just went up to the first person near the battle lobby she could find and was like hey how do I join?

[arolesbianism]

I recently decided to semi revive some of my crusty dusty splatoon ocs from when I was like 12, so here’s all of the goobers! Meet Cherry (she/her), Slosh (he/they), Egg (they/them), and Blast (she/they)

[imfluentinfangirlandgay]

In Which They Needed Cosmic Help - Ch 16

Summary: Ingo never really knew what to do at parties. This was an important celebration, the Pokedex had just been completed, after all. The Gods were conquered.

He didn't expect a sudden appearance of a familiar face because of an almighty deity, though.

Word Count: 961

Hurt/Comfort, slight angst

The next day was just as long and difficult as all three of them thought it would be. Emmet, Ingo, and Akari all marched up to the Subway before the sun had risen, opening its doors and turning on the lights. Ingo and Emmet had sent out messages to their employees, informing them of their return and that they still had a steady job. Then they got to work going through the massive pile of paperwork from before Emmet had left a week prior. Ingo had brought the Sneasel egg along, setting it atop a heated blanket and keeping it in the middle of a table, propped up against some blankets. Akari decided to explore the subway itself.

Samurott and Luxray helped her clean off some of the grime and dirt leftover in the lobby and on the platform. Luxray ensured that the lines were all still properly charged with electricity, adding an extra pump to those that weren’t. For about three hours, this is all the trio did, working through the mountain of busywork set aside for the twins and cleaning the subway for Akari.

And then the hoard came. Reporters, Subway regulars, and even just other people of Unova lined up at the locked Subway doors, demanding entrance. They could only see the lights on inside and the new sparkling floors, but they knew that something was amiss. The crowd only grew as time went on, people milling around and spreading rumors in hushed tones.

And then there they were. Both Subway Bosses, wearing their old uniforms in perfect condition. One smiling broadly, the other frowning intensely. Both with their hands tucked behind their backs, standing straight and proud. Neither seemed to have aged a day as they stood in front of their subway, greeting the people of Nimbasa City. Reporters nearly fought each other to get to the front of the line just to get the first interview with them.

“Bosses, when did you return?”

“Ingo, it is true that you started a tea shop in Galar?”

“Emmet, what are your thoughts on the Subway’s reopening?”

Thus the questions went, some outright dumb, some legitimate, all being flung at them at once. In reality, both brothers had frozen, completely unsure what to do. They stood with near expressionless faces. They’d expected bad, but not this bad.

Thankfully, they were saved. “Hey! If you want to hear something about them so bad, beat them first! The first person to beat them in a Doubles Battle or me in a Single Battle gets to hear the story!” Akari had popped out between the two brothers, startling them both. She shouted over the conundrum of people, also startling them. They were quite sure they’d never seen them before. She grabbed the two brothers by the wrist, throwing them into the control room to get everything set up. They took over wordlessly and with practiced ease. People filed into the lobby. Akari grinned, holding her stupidly overpowered team. Their balls shook. She was prepared.

The brothers nodded their affirmative at her, each giving her a thumbs-up. She practically pushed them onto the Doubles train. “Just go as hard as you can and don’t answer questions unless they actually win. I’m sure you guys can do it!” Then she hopped on her own train and faced an older Trainer. The train lurched, picking up speed as it went. She tossed out Samurott, who looked at her with anticipation. The opponent sent out a Heatmor. Akari grinned. This was going to be fun.

-------------------------------------------------

It took them most of the day to make it through the crowd. They were constantly battling and healing their teams until the sun finally went down, as the last few stragglers gathered up their fainted teams and ran to the nearest Pokecenter. However, all three emerged victorious. Ingo and Emmet exited their train, wiping their brows with the backs of their hands. Akari was waiting for them in the control room already, wrapping up a burn on Luxray’s paw. Some other individuals had joined her, people who used to work here. They all chatted amongst each other, watching the cameras and laughing over some of the events of the day.

Akari was seated off to the side. The brothers strode into the room and immediately all conversation stopped, everyone standing. They all watched the two with anticipation. Emmet’s smile was tired, but definitely genuine. Ingo looked exhausted, but his eyes were bright.

“Thank you all for coming back today on such short notice. We can hope that today was the worst of it, but I am doubtful we will see decreased numbers of passengers for an extended period of time. All of you performed well today. Sometime, we can discuss our absence, however, I believe we all need some rest after today.” Ingo tipped his cap, indicating that his speech was finished.

“I am Emmet. I am once again a Subway Boss. And thank you for helping us today.” Emmet tipped his cap as well. The employees all clapped, clearly happy to have their bosses back. Both of them. Ingo and Emmet strode over to Akari, kneeling down beside her and hugging her.

“Thank you for taking over, Akari. I’m not certain what we would have done with our engines so scrambled this morning. Talking with the press is not our most well-oiled track.” Akari smiled and hugged them back.

“I can handle PR after everything in Hisui,” she laughed. The two let go and stood, allowing Akari to recall Luxray and help her to her feet. “I could get used to this, though. Today was so much fun! I could see myself doing this forever!” Ingo and Emmet glanced at each other, grinning.

“I think we could arrange that.”

[Start] - [Previous] - [Next]

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 3, Chp. 9″

"Black Butterfly, sail across the waters Tell your sons and daughters what the struggle brings Black Butterfly, set the skies on fire Rise up even higher So the ageless winds of time can catch your wings"

Deniece Williams – "Black Butterfly"

Disa spotted Pamela in the middle of the floor.

The moment the beat hit her ears, Pamela threw her head back and tossed her ass in a circle letting Disa know it was good to go.

The beginning was always the difficult part of her sets when she was trying to create a montage of feelings through sound. There were peaks and valleys she had to hit in order to hold the audience hostage. She almost lost it halfway through Zana High Life when the host shouted out DJ Geechee Dan standing on the side of the stage. Disa had been trying to find him up in the VIP section and he was right there, less than twenty feet from her watching her cut up a live mix.

It was Erik that saved her from bumbling her set as she focused on him moving instead of Geechie Dan being so near her. He came out of nowhere and she had no idea he could dance so well. The boy showed out and Pamela tried to keep up. It brought a smile to her lips to see him grab her homegirl and dance Pamela around. No one had ever been able to hang with her, and Erik pushed the woman to go all out.

Disa reeled everyone back in when she let Erik's voice quote "Beloved" over the music. He matched the tone of the syncopated beats. It sounded romantic. Dreamy. She took a respite and let the mix play as she watched him dance. So fluid. Like water. She knew he practiced capoeira and decided to go off script and freestyle her set. Dragging down some berimabau sounds, she cued up a Brazilian jam and dropped it on top of her own drumming in time to the stringed instrument. It struck like a thunderbolt on Erik and it shocked her to see him backflip and hold his body in a handstand as his legs moved in slow motion before he crouched on the floor low and swayed to the ancient sounds.

The boy was bad.

Loose hips and expressive arm movement fooled everyone into thinking he was just jamming instead of showing off a martial art. Disa was in awe and almost missed her next transition cue because she was so mesmerized by him. How could that brainy, standoffish, and arrogant man-child turn into a snake-hipped God of the dance?

Pamela jumped back on him and Disa played with them both by skipping her planned closing and taking the two of them to the Black Queer spaces she roamed with Pamela and friends. Punching up the voice of the icon Selvin Mizrahi, aka MC Debra, Disa brought in ballroom beats.

"That shouldn't have been the question," echoed about the space and Pamela stopped dancing with Erik and pointed a finger at Disa.

"Don't play with me, bitch!" Pamela shouted before she dropped to the floor and duck walked like the diva she was. This attracted their other homegirl Tatum who dipped several times making Yamilet stand aside with weak knees. Pamela played with Tatum in a simulated ballroom battle over Erik's attention until Tatum pushed Pamela aside and twirled around the youngster capturing his attention. The audience roared when Erik dropped into his own duck walk challenging Tatum. Erik's friends howled and the entire venue lost it when he dipped three times in front of Tatum making her storm off in a pretend huff as he duck walked after her before spinning on his back and shoulders. He grabbed Tatum's hand and ground on her ass with the closing notes of Disa's set. Loud whistles and claps erupted, and she waved to the crowd before the lights switched over to the next DJ who looked frightened at the prospect of following up after her.

Tatum rushed over to her swiping back long strands of crimped and twisty hair.

"Girl, your lil man was out here giving what he was supposed to give! Is he…?"

"Erik? No, I don't believe so."

"He was putting that thang on me like he wanted a piece of the good, Sis. He grab on me again like that and I'll let him get a taste."

Tatum's dark brown eyes were glossy from drinking and she followed Disa as she carried her crate of vinyl to the green room.

"He's not the type to turn mean if he knows….y'now…" Tatum said.

"He's very open. I don't think he'd trip to know you're Trans."

"Good. Cuz he could get it from any of these women out here. Did you see him move? I know Pamela is butt hurt that she was not the center of the dance universe tonight."

Tatum watched her tuck her crate under a covered table and push them far back with her jacket on top of it with her computer bag.

"I liked how you closed out your set."

"People liked it, yeah?"

"Yeah, but I worry cuz you know how these niggas be wildin' if you bring in the Fam in hetero spaces. Everybody turns into homophobe and kills the vibe for everybody."

Disa's cell buzzed. She pulled it from her back pocket.

"Yamilet and them. She's out by the car now."

Disa dragged her crate back out and Tatum carried her computer bag for her. They headed outside to the parking lot. Yamilet was there with Pamela, and Essie. She opened her trunk and Disa dumped her stuff. The women gave her joyous hugs and high fives before they traipsed back in to catch the other DJs.

Erik ran up to her breathless.

"Hey! I thought you were leaving!"

Disa patted his arm.

"No, just putting my gear away. Erik, these are my friends…"

She introduced everyone, and Erik shook their hands. Tatum and Pamela gave him big hugs and Yamilet snapped her fingers at him.

"Geechie… Hey! Geechie Dan, hold up!" Erik shouted.

Disa's heart dropped in her belly. Erik shook her idol's hand and brought him over to Disa.

"This is Disa Abdullah-Woods, your biggest fan," Erik said.

"My dear, sweet, woman, you are a master class of gifts. That set was-"

Geechie Dan kissed his fingers to end his praise.

Disa held out a trembling hand to him.

"No, that's not gonna do, Buttafly. Bring it in," he said opening his arms wide.

Disa burst into tears.

"Hey, I'm nobody to cry over," he whispered.

Geechie Dan gave Disa a big hug, and she stood there like a blubbering baby. The years that she spent practicing what she would say to the man if she ever met him in person went straight out the window. She used to laugh at people who became overly emotional meeting celebrities, but now she totally understood the overwhelming feeling that surged through her.

She wiped her eyes and Erik rubbed her back with gentle circles.

"I've been a fan since I was a little kid," she stammered out.

"Erik here told me. I told him how much I enjoyed his dancing and he just went in about you."

A crowd surrounded Geechie Dan, but he ignored them, his twinkling eyes on her.

"It has been a long time since I've seen a DJ create a set with so much intention behind it. You have something special in you, young lady. Never lose that gift."

Disa's mouth seemed to lose all ability to work. All the things she wanted to say stalled in her throat. He was there in the flesh. Standing in front of her.

"Disa has a radio show you should go on," Erik suggested.

"Oh yeah? Give me your number. I'll call you up and we can chop it up."

Geechie Dan pulled out his cell and Disa gave him her number, her voice a soft shell of its usual assertive tone.

"When I get some free time, I'll hit you up. Excuse me, they want me back up on stage. Amazing set, Disa. Keep spinning!"

The man shook her hand with both of his and his entourage and promoters swept him away.

"She's still in shock," Yamilet said waving her hand in Disa's face.

Erik's bright smile attracted her attention. Had he not spoken to the man, Disa may very well have missed her opportunity to meet him, let alone remember to ask the man for a radio interview. Her mind floated with the surreal nature of the experience. Her cell buzzed.

Here's my number. I'll be in New York in a few weeks, would be open to an in-person radio interview.

Geechee Dan's personal cell number. She had it. In her palm.

Disa reached out and grabbed Erik's shoulders. She planted a big fat kiss on his lips.

"Damn, what was that for?" he said.

"Being here," she said.

He wiped his lips and smiled.

"Erik…"

Chloe slinked up and slipped her arm in Erik's, tugging him towards the dance floor. Disa watched him enter the thick crowd of swaying bodies to dance once more.

###

Her night was a dreamy success.

Disa stayed in a popular hotel with her friends, and they hung out in the bar. Erik strolled into the lobby with his friends. In a tipsy stupor, Disa walked over to him with a fresh drink in her hand. "Didn't know you were staying here too," she said.

He took the drink from her and sipped it down.

"Hey… you can't drink this here out in the open, you're underage!"

She snatched it away from his lips.

"Nah, it's after midnight… I'm twenty-one now," he said.

"Oh, shit. It's your birthday? Today?"

"Yep."

"Happy Birthday, Erik!"

She hugged him tight and gave him the glass of liquor.

"Enjoy," she said.

"What room are we in?" Jace asked.

Erik's dorm companion looked sleepy along with two other guys.

"301," Erik said handing Jace a key card.

Disa's friends called for her to return to the bar counter.

"Come celebrate with us," she said pointing to her group.

"I'm beat, to be honest. Thanks for asking me though."

"If you change your mind, we'll be down here."

"Good to know."

"Thanks for everything, Erik. Tonight was really special and meant a lot to me. Especially with you hooking me up with Geechie Dan."

"Glad to make your dream come true."

His eyes penetrated hers.

"Okay grown-ass man, go to bed," she said pushing on his arm playfully.

"You're drunk," he teased.

"A happy one at that," she said stumbling off to join her girls.

Three more drinks later, after a heated discussion with a group of men who hovered around them trying to interject their unwanted opinions about dating, Disa leaned over the bar counter and asked for a special birthday cocktail for Erik. She went to the lobby restroom, collected the drink afterward, and excused herself from her friends. She took the elevator to the third floor and found Erik's room. The fruity exotic drink had a lot of strong liquor in it. Knocking on the door, she waited for someone to answer. She could hear a tv on and talking going on inside.

Kelvin, a cute nerdy string bean answered the door.

"Is Erik up?" she asked.

Kelvin's eyes nearly popped out looking at her.

"You were so good," he yelped.

"Thank you… um… Erik?"

"He's not here."

"Not here? Did he go out?"

"No, he's in that room," Kelvin said pointing across the hall to room 302.

"Thanks," she said.

Kelvin closed the door and Disa did a one-eighty and rapped her knuckles on the new door. She toyed with the blue umbrella and pineapple garnish on his drink. Erik answered. Shirtless and wearing tight gray boxers.

"Hey," she said.

"Um… Hi. 'sup?"

"Birthday drink. A proper one."

She thrust it out to him and tried to brush past him, but he held an arm up in the door jamb blocking her. Her brain failed to register that he didn't want her inside, and she bumped against him, her breasts touching his chest.

"I can't come in?"

"I have someone here," he said.

Her eyes cut behind him. Chloe was draped in nothing but a sheet, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill over her arm that clutched the covers.

"Oh, snap. I'm sorry. I thought you were staying with the guys over there. Didn't realize you had your own room. Here, enjoy the drink," she said.

Erik took the bulbous glass, and his expression was full of embarrassment. He stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him. Disa stepped back from him and fumbled with her hands.

"Handle your business. It's time for me to get to bed myself… get some sleep. Have fun!"

She tried to sound jovial, but something in the back of her throat made her voice accusatory. As if she caught him doing something behind her back. For months she thought of Erik as her little pet. He was her loyal puppy, and she had to admit she enjoyed all the fawning he did over her. But he was also a young man with needs. She tried not to look at the package that was hanging in his underwear. The outline of it was showing off. God forbid if he was a grower too.

"Me and Chloe kinda got this thing going on now…"

"New girlfriend and good birthday sex is a blessing. Night Erik."

She turned to leave and pivoted back to him.

"Can I put on a birthday dinner for you and your family? I know you're planning on eating at Toulouse, but I would love to host your birthday party at my place."

"That's too much Disa. I have a lot of people coming in from all over."

"How many?"

"Fifteen—"

"Pfft, boy, you've been to my dinner parties, you know how I get down. Fifteen is nothing for me."

"The cost alone will be crazy—"

"Let me handle that. You deserve a special day. You made my night amazing, let me show my appreciation. What would you like to eat?"

Erik's eyes grew thoughtful, they dropped to look at his drink.

"I love your Confit de Canard,"

"Aw, I see. I finally got you to give in to duck meat."

"It's gonna be hella expensive."

"Don't worry about it. Let's say six sharp on Saturday, three courses and Turkish coffee with a birthday cake."

His eyes lit up.

"I'll let my people know."

"Tell them to dress up. I'll plan a splendid evening with games afterward."

Erik grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.

"Thank you," he said.

"Better get back to Chloe. Don't want her chewing my head off for keeping all of this out of the bed."

She smirked at him and wandered down the hall.

###

Chloe had a frown n her face when Erik walked back into the hotel room.

"What did she want?"

"Birthday gift," he said holding up the fancy drink.

He sipped it, and the liquor was too strong for his tastes. It would knock him out before he had a chance to smash Chloe. He put the glass on the nightstand and pulled off his boxers. His dick was already at half-mast.

"Why is your dick like that already?"

Chloe sat up, and the frown on her face deepened.

"Looking at you gets me excited," he countered.

Hopping into the bed, he pulled back the sheets and swiped her nipples with his tongue.

"You're attracted to her."

"Disa? That's my homegirl—"

"Everyone knows you have a crush on her. You turn into a puddle whenever she's around."

Chloe folded her arms over her breasts blocking his access.

"If your dick is getting hard for her, maybe you should get some birthday sex from her instead!"

"Chloe. Stop trippin'. I'm giving this dick to you."

He rubbed the hardening length against her thigh. She slapped it.

"Wanna play rough?" he said.

"Was your dick hard for that Trans chick too?"

"What?"

"Disa's friend. The one with the long fluffy hair. You didn't know?"

"No. She fine as fuck though."

"You'd fuck a Trans woman?"

There was disgust on her face.

Erik sat up. He'd been around Trans women and Trans men all his life, especially in Brazil. He had a Trans play uncle in Sao Paulo who used to babysit him and his play cousin Marisol.

"A woman is a woman. She got titties I can play with and a hole I can fuck, I don't see a problem—"

"Ohmigod! You really would fuck her."

"That ass was amazing."

"I can't believe you're serious!"

"Are you a queerphobe? Cuz if you are, that's not gonna work for me."

"No… I just… I can't picture you being like that."

"Like what?"

"Accepting. You're like a man's man—"

"A Transphobe? I wasn't raised like that. My mother would never let me treat people like shit who didn't deserve it."

Chloe stared down at her hands.

"I'm glad to hear that, actually."

"Yeah? Why?"

Her eyes welled up.

"My sister… she's transitioning… he's becoming my brother and I worry about him going up against guys like you."

"Guys like me?"

"Y'know overly masculine. He's coming to visit me in a few weeks and I wanted you to meet him since he's interested in capoeira."

Her eyes met his.

"I didn't mean to be accusatory about Disa's friend. She's beautiful. Prettier than me."

"You're the prettiest woman in this room right now."

She slapped his hand and smiled.

"But you do like Disa. Right?"

"She's my friend. I had a big crush on her when I first arrived on campus, but now… she's like a mentor… a big sister. We're close and she teaches all kinds of cool stuff. I probably do act all goofy when I'm around her—"

"It's cute… really. I just… let's forget about it."

He kissed her. With guilt. Disa meant more to him than just a big sister or a mentor. She was the ultimate woman. But she would never see him as a man.

Chloe wrapped her lips around his dick and rolled a condom on his shaft after she plumped him up to complete hardness. She presented her backside to him and he sank into her walls and pumped, enjoying her soft sighs and cries of passion. He took off the condom much later as she allowed him to fuck her raw in the ass and dump a hot load in her anal walls. She kept his mind off of Disa and those lush breasts that truly made his dick thicken and visibly tell Chloe the truth. Disa was his dream girl. Everyone could see it.

###

The large package arrived at Disa's house the day before Erik's birthday party. She called him on his phone to tell them that a big box with a D.C. return address and B. Dunduza written in black block letters was sitting in her living room.

He drove over to her house, and Disa watched him tear it open. There was a note on top of the bubble wrap.

"Kept these in storage for you. We wanted to wait until you turned twenty-one to have them. Cherish them as we cherish you."

Uncle Bakari and Auntie Shavonne both signed it.

Erik removed the layer of bubble wrap and his heart nearly stopped.

He fingered the old dark brown leather, and a breath shuddered out of him.

"Erik? You alright?" Disa asked.

She put a hand on his shoulder as he lifted the leather-bound journal from the box.

"These are my father's journals," he whispered.

Opening the first journal, he recognized the careful Wakandan script written by his father's powerful hand. They taped a small piece of bubble wrap on the page. Erik unraveled it and gasped before falling on his backside.

"What is it?" Disa asked, rising concern coloring her voice

Opening his fingers, Erik stared at the wondrous gift.

His Baba's ring. Attached to the chain his mother bought for him as an anniversary gift. The chain his father wore the night he was killed by King T'Chaka.

His family birthright.

Now his.

Chapter 10 HERE

###

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[drmmyrs]

The Way I Loved You (Poppy x MC) Part 2

I want to make this a slow burn type of fic so I’ll just be giving crumbs for now 😅 I swear tho there’ll be more plot and action in the later parts.

tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings​ (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Read Part 1

Word Count: 1700

Warning: none

"I'm sorry, Ms. Min-Sinclair, we only have one more room available for tonight."

Bea watched as the expression on Poppy's face went from horrified to anger. "Check again, please."

"I'm really sorry, but unfortunately, all our other rooms are already booked since we had several guests come in because of the storm," the receptionist said apologetically.

The look Poppy gave the receptionist must have been pretty damn scary, given that his hand was now visibly shaking.

Poppy's voice was beginning to rise. "Listen to me you–"

Bea clasped her hand around Poppy's wrist and dragged her away from the poor guy before she could make a scene. Kind and sweet Poppy was gone entirely. Instead, standing before her was the self-absorbed, shrieking harpy Bea very much knew and hated.

"Calm down, Poppy. The receptionist was just doing his job."

"Calm down?! There's not a chance in hell that I–"

"You know what? If you want to sleep outside in the storm, go ahead because I certainly won't be stopping you," Bea snapped.

Poppy was seething but didn't say anything else.

"I'll be in our room. Feel free to join me once you actually figure out how to act like an adult."

Without waiting for Poppy's response, Bea made her way to the receptionist to finish the transaction, all the while apologizing for Poppy's behavior. Once she got the key, she went straight to the room.

Bea had hoped there were two beds at least, but the way their luck was going, it only made sense that a single queen-sized bed stood at the center of the room. The room itself was average with bland white walls and a window with a city view that was currently shrouded by heavy rain and mist. It certainly wasn't nearly like her room back in Belvoire, but it wasn't like she had any other choice.

After setting down what little things Bea had brought with her–obviously not expecting to spend the night there, and definitely not with Poppy–Bea collapsed on the bed, exhausted. A few minutes later, the door opened, and Poppy walked in, evidently calmer than before. She stood near the doorway, scanning the entire room with a frown. Bea fully expected her to complain about, well, everything, but she just trodded to the side of the bed and glared at her.

"Move."

Bea moved obediently to the other side of the bed, too exhausted to argue. Poppy gracefully slid into bed and took her phone out.

"Stay at your side of the bed, and don't talk to me."

Bea frowned. "I didn't even–"

Poppy scowled at Bea, and Bea made the gesture of zipping her lips. The only sound that followed was the heavy downpour of rain that reverberated across the room. After an hour, Bea got up from bed and started to walk towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Poppy called out, almost sounding... worried.

Bea raised her eyebrow. "I'll come back if that's what you're worried about."

Poppy rolled her eyes, but Bea could see a slight flush on her cheeks. "As if. Get lost in the storm for all I care."

Bea laughed. "I'm just gonna check out the boutique I saw near the lobby. Don't really wanna sleep in these clothes." Bea hesitated. "Do you... want to come with?"

Without answering, Poppy rose from the bed and strode out of the room. Bea followed soon after, and for someone so short, Poppy sure walked incredibly fast that Bea had a hard time keeping up with her.

"Do you even know where it is?" Bea asked.

Probably realizing she didn't, Poppy slowed down until they were walking alongside each other. When they reached the boutique, Poppy immediately frowned in disgust at the clothing selection.

"Ugh, what even is this?" Poppy remarked, looking at a shirt with an unflattering shade of pink.

"Are you saying you can't pull that off?" Bea challenged.

"No, I'm saying that I have standards. Obviously, something you know nothing about." Poppy made her way through the selection, sneering all the while. "I'm not wearing these."

Bea rolled her eyes. "Get off your high horse. If you want to sleep in your sweaty clothes, at least do me a favor and not, like, sleep next to me."

Poppy let out a scornful laugh. "Oh sweety, I'll still smell better than whatever pigsty your perfume came from. But maybe... I'll just wear nothing then."

Despite herself, an image of Poppy naked sprung to Bea's head, sending heat all over her body. She slightly faced away from Poppy.

Noticing Bea's sudden silence, Poppy curiously looked at her. "My, my, Farmsville, don't tell me you're already imagining me naked," Poppy said with a smirk.

Mustering her most dismissive tone, Bea said, "Please, you're not even that hot." A blatant lie, of course. Poppy is a lot of things, and 'hot' is definitely one of those. Thankfully, Poppy moved on after seeing a dress that, Bea agreed, 'should be burned.'

After a painstakingly long search, Poppy was finally able to find something 'tolerable.' They made their purchases and went back to their room. When they arrived, Poppy was the first to get in the shower, and when she came out, she was wearing a tight-fitting tank top and bike shorts that hugged and accentuated all her curves. The room suddenly got so much hotter as Bea tried her absolute best not to stare at her, and even so, she knew it was a losing battle which is why she jumped to the shower the first chance she got. After showering, Bea realized that in her hurry, she forgot to take her clothes with her. She wrapped a towel and walked out to the bedroom to get her clothes. When her back was turned to Poppy, Bea glanced at a mirror nearby and was surprised to see Poppy staring at her with her mouth parted slightly. But when she casually turned around, Poppy had already averted her gaze.

Later that night, the storm got worse as thunders started to rumble outside. At first, Bea thought it was just a trick of the light, but after a few more claps of thunder, she could see Poppy flinch at every roar with her eyes clenched shut.

Is Poppy... actually scared of thunderstorms?  

As if to answer her question, Poppy started to heave heavily, with traces of sweat forming on her forehead. And as much as Bea despised Poppy–or at least that's what she kept telling herself–she actually felt sorry for her. And against her better judgment, Bea reluctantly placed her hand over Poppy's and gave it a soft squeeze. Poppy tensed for a moment at the gesture before she relaxed and gripped Bea's hand tighter. In response, Bea started tracing soothing circles on the back of her hand, and they fell asleep through the thunderstorm, hand-in-hand.

When Bea woke up, most of the storm had already passed, with light to moderate rain falling intermittently. She scanned the room and saw Poppy eating at the desk.

"Your food's getting cold," Poppy said without looking at her.

"You... got me food?"

"I figured since we didn't have dinner yesterday." Poppy turned to face Bea. "Why do you sound so surprised."

Bea furrowed her brows. "Because that's actually nice. And as far as I'm concerned, you're not."

"Well, I don't particularly care about you. And trust me, no one will be happier than me with you gone. But, unfortunately, I do have to keep you alive at least until after the party. Grades and all."

Bea got up and went to the desk to get her food. Poppy got her an English-style breakfast while she was eating... a teensy salad.

Poppy saw Bea looking at her food. "Did you also want a salad?"

"Uh, no. It just doesn't look... filling."

"It's not. But it's not like I have a choice. Their vegetarian selection is awful."

And just when Bea thought Poppy couldn't surprise her anymore.

"Wait, you're... vegetarian?" Bea asked in undisguised surprise.

"Yes." Poppy narrowed her eyes at Bea. "You know, you have to stop assuming you know everything about me. In fact, you know nothing about me."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that."

Bea went back to bed and started to eat her food, her mind going back to the foster home, how Poppy's entire personality changed around the people there. Before, Bea was so convinced that she had Poppy pegged, just a basic bitch who thought too highly of herself with no regard for others at all. But Poppy was right; Bea barely knew her... and she wanted to know more.

"Why?" Bea turned to face Poppy. "Why are you a vegetarian, I mean. If you don't mind me asking."

Poppy made an annoyed expression. "I do mind, actually."

A grin spread on Bea's face. "Oh my god, you totally care about the animals."

When Poppy didn't respond, Bea continued. "First kids and now animals? My, my, Poppy, what will people say if they knew that their favorite she-devil is actually a big softie."

Poppy stopped eating and turned to give Bea a menacing glare. "If you tell anyone about this, you're dead."

After they finished eating, Bea and Poppy started planning for the party the next day. So naturally, more than a few shouts, insults, and curses were thrown around until they finally, finally, agreed on all the details. Since Poppy was the one with all the connections, she had to call for all the services needed. And when her trusty photographer told her he wasn't available, Poppy cursed in frustration.

"The party, it's not just about your GPA, is it. This is really important to you."

Poppy didn't answer and instead went back to make a few more phone calls.

When everything was settled, the storm had fully passed, and it was already safe to drive home. So imagine Bea's surprise when Poppy said that they were staying there for another night.

"I thought you hated this place."

"I do. But I'm not going to drive an hour home just to go back early tomorrow. Besides, we'll get things done much faster if we stay here."

Bea smiled. "Would you like some champagne?"

[gubler-me-up]

Unsung Heroes

Request: Hi! I just found your account and I am in LOVE. I know this is a sort of very specific ask, but could you write Spencer Reid dating a masculine/trans masculine person? I think it would be really cool so yeah lol thank u in advance 🥺🥺💖💖 (ur literally so damn talented)

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, anon! Sorry it took a long time to get to but I’m glad I’m getting it out before the end of the year. This is my first masc trans reader fic out of two in my requests, so I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know if there is anything I can improve on or anything you would like to see in my next masc trans spencer reid fic that I didn’t portray well here. I did a bit of research to make sure my portrayal was accurate but I am always open to improving my work especially so readers feel comfortable and represented while reading. Hope you enjoy and happy reading! 💕

Couple: Spencer Reid/Masc trans!reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: None just pure ~fluff~

Word count: 2.5k

————-

You threw on your favourite flannel to complete your outfit. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time to fix your hair properly before Spencer arrived. He might not be a fan of styling his hair but making sure your hair was to your liking was your thing. Especially after getting a fresh cut it was important to you that you made the best of it before your hair started to grow back.

You then quickly checked your beard to see if there were any noticeable razor bumps. You didn’t see any visible ones but the ones below the surface were always the dangerous ones. You ran your hand over your beard to feel for any up and coming bumps. You stopped your finger over a spot that felt tender to the touch.

“Ah, you already feel as if you’re going to be a pain,” you mumbled to yourself.

You heard soft knocks on your door before you could continue your battle with your soon to be razor bump. You grabbed your wallet and keys off of your dresser before leaving your bedroom to answer the door. You opened the door to see Spencer standing in front of you with his hands gripped on his satchel strap and an excited smile plastered on his face.

He gently lifted his satchel to bring your attention to it. You chuckled as you saw how full it looked. You looked at him with a quizzical expression as he started to laugh himself.

“I thought we could read some light literature as we indulge in these breakfast burritos you’re so excited about,” he said.

“I haven’t read a good book in a while let alone encyclopedias,” you chuckled.

“They’re not all encyclopedia’s. Just one,” he said.

You laughed as you closed the door behind you. You didn’t believe him one bit about only having one encyclopedia in his satchel but you weren’t going to overly tease him about it. You were more interested in him trying a breakfast burrito for the first time.

You originally didn’t get the hype over breakfast burritos for a while until you were running late to work one morning and saw a food truck nearby. They convinced you to try their breakfast burrito and you’ve been loyal to them ever since. You knew Spencer was more of a coffee and go person but you thought he might enjoy trying something new.

“We’ll find out the truth after we get something to eat,” you said.

Spencer smiled and nodded as he loosened his grip on his satchel strap. He let his hand loosely fall to his sides. You smirked as you reached your hand out to him and he immediately grabbed it. To say he was forever touched starved was an understatement.

You were glad you could give him something he didn’t already have plenty of in his life. Touching books and case files all day definitely couldn’t give him the physical touch he deeply desired. You were happy every day for the past six months you could be the one to embrace him in any amount of touch. Bonus points for him always smelling good as well.

Spencer pressed the button for the elevator. “Are these breakfast burritos really as good as you say they are?”

“You’re doubting me now?” You asked.

“No, I would never do that. I’m just saying we sometimes have different tastes in things,” he said.

“Oh? What kind of things?” You asked.

“Well, you prefer listening to more contemporary artists while I’m more into classical,” he said.

“Musical taste is whatever though. I can get down to Mozart any day,” you chuckled.

He laughed. “Well, you take your coffee with oat milk and three brown sugars. I take mine black with a little sugar.”

“If you think half the sugar canister is a little sugar then I don’t wanna know what you consider a lot of sugar.”

You both laughed as the elevator doors opened. You both stepped into it and you pressed the lobby floor. You looked at him with a smirk before grabbing his chin. He smiled at your touch as he looked lovingly into your eyes.

“What?” He asked.

“I think there’s one thing we can both agree we have good taste in,” you said.

You leaned in and kissed Spencer on the lips which you knew he longed for. He didn’t hesitate to embrace you fully into his mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever kissed a guy with softer lips than him. He latched his hands onto your face and started to stroke his thumb against your beard. It ran over the growing razor bump but you didn’t mind if he touched it.

You parted your lips from him before you changed your mind and opted to spend the day with him in your apartment. He chuckled and didn’t move his hands away from your face. It didn’t seem as if the good doctor was quite finished with you.

“You want another taste?” You joked.

He nodded. You obliged and leaned in to kiss him again. You could have him for breakfast all day every day. Since breakfast was taken up by a breakfast burrito with your names on it, you guessed you could have him for lunch instead.

————

You and Spencer had found a rock to sit on near the lake. The park was quite full for a Sunday morning but with such nice weather you couldn’t blame people for wanting to be out and about so early. You watched Spencer carefully as he took his time eating his breakfast burrito. You couldn’t quite tell if he liked it or not based on his blank stare into the water as he ate.

“How do you like it?” You asked.

He quickly snapped out of his long gaze into the water. He looked over at you and smiled but it couldn’t fool you. You knew something was running around that big brain of his and you wanted to know what.

“I like it. It’s definitely an interesting concept,” he said as he took another small bite.

“Spence, what’s wrong?” You asked.

He shook his head in response to you as he finished chewing. You gave him a second to finish whatever was left in his mouth before he started talking. He let out a drawn-out sigh before licking his lips.

“I was going over case files this week and went over this one from a few years ago. This little boy’s family was murdered  and he was the only survivor. Found out he left his aunt and uncle’s house to go into foster care. Apparently, he’s been having a hard time no matter where he goes,” he said.

“Well, from being a human I can tell you family sucks but from working in social work I can tell you the foster care system sucks. It’s hard to look at some of these cases and talk to these children having a hard time for sure,” you said.

“I just don’t feel as if I’m making a difference,” he confessed.

You shook your head in protest. If anyone was making a difference it was Dr. Spencer Reid. You knew how doubtful he could be of his capabilities sometimes but you knew he just needed a little reminder here and there.

“Are you kidding? You’re out here risking your life to catch serial killers every day and you don’t think you’re making a difference?” You asked.

“But it just stops there. The lives ruined never get fixed. The survivors never know a sense of peace. I just help solve cases and then move onto the next thing,” he said.

“You don’t have to deal with the social work or therapy side of these cases because there are people who take that area over for you. You do enough, Spence,” you said.

“And you do the most, Y/N. You’re so good at social work and when you’re not doing that you’re dedicating your time volunteering for homeless youths,” he said.

“It’s easy to volunteer though. Anyone can do it,” you said.

“And here I am not doing that.”

Spencer stared back into the depths of the water as he took another bite from his breakfast burrito. A bigger bite this time. You were honestly impressed. He probably took a bigger bite so he had more time to chew and less time to talk about his worries. A true genius.

You looked into the water yourself. The waves coming in reminded you of what one of your coworkers said to you once. You laughed to yourself which brought Spencer’s attention back to you.

“You know when I first told one of my coworkers I was transgender they asked if my transitioning period felt as if that one scene in Mulan where she looked at her reflection and knew she was supposed to reflect who she was inside and then decided to pretend to be a man to go into war on behalf of her father. I said not exactly and before I could explain to them why their analogy wasn’t really accurate, they hugged me and said they were proud I was able to reflect who I was inside on the outside,” you said.

“The lake reminded you of your coworker’s ignorance?” He questioned.

You chuckled. “No, it reminded me of that scene in Mulan and then that reminded me of my coworker’s ignorance. That being said though they did tell me how a lot of people they know are unsung heroes. I asked what they meant by that and they said unsung heroes are people who are trying their best but aren’t acknowledged or are overlooked by others or themselves.”

“Are you trying to say I’m a little harsh on myself?”

“Just a little.”

He looked back out into the lake again. You could see the wheels in his head turning as he thought about what you said. You continued to enjoy your breakfast sandwich as you let him ponder on your words. Usually it was the other way around and the words you were pondering were a bit more complex but you were nonetheless glad you could get him thinking.

By the time he looked at you, your burrito was nearly done. His whole time thinking he hadn’t taken another bite of his burrito. You didn’t know if you were happy he was about to talk to you about his insights or upset because he made a good breakfast burrito get cold.

“You don’t think I’m an unsung hero do you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Of course not. I think you’re just a hero who wants to save the whole world at once but can barely finish a breakfast burrito.”

He chuckled. “This thing’s huge.”

“And so is the world but just like your bites, you have to solve issues within it in small nibbles,” you joked.

He laughed as he took another bite out of it. He tried to chew it with a smile on his face but you knew he hated the fact it was cold. You laughed at him as he swallowed the remains of his bite. He carefully wrapped his half-eaten burrito before looking at you with a wide smile. You were glad to see him smiling again and the doubt lifted from his face.

“I think you’re right,” he said.

“You think I’m right? Say that I’m right again and you might just have to hand over your Ph.D. to me,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Which one?”

You both laughed. When Spencer made a joke, it was definitely one for the books. However, when he made a good joke it was one for the history books. You believed the longer you two are together the better his humour could become.

“All jokes aside, I want to spend my free time volunteering with homeless youths with you,” he said.

You looked at him surprised but a smile soon appeared on your face. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He looked at you with those big, beautiful brown eyes of his filled with hope. You nodded your head.

“I would love for you to volunteer with me. I think the kids would love learning a thing or two from you,” you said.

“Teach?” You said.

“Yeah. Every Friday we teach youths a different arrangement of skills that will help them in life. It’s a great sight seeing them have hope in their eyes again. I first started with counselling transgender youths in the program and have branched out to other members of the LGBTQ2S+. I now help homeless youths who have been victims of physical abuse. It’s definitely hard stuff to hear but seeing their faces when they know they’re being helped through their problems is the biggest reward I could ever ask for.”

Throughout your whole speech you could see tears at the brim of Spencer’s eyes. He tried to wipe his eyes before any tears could fall out but you already knew you had touched his soft spot. He smiled brightly at you before letting out a soft chuckle.

“I hope they like physics,” he said.

You laughed. “Taught the Dr. Spencer Reid way, I think they will have a new appreciation of the science.”

You both broke out into laughter again. You broke the laughter by kissing him on the lips. You could never get over how happy he looked every time you kissed him.

“I love you, Spencer,” you said.

He grinned. “I love you too, Y/N.”

“How about we get you some real breakfast and head back to my place for lunch?” You said.

You stood up on the rock and placed your hand out for Spencer to use to get up. He gladly grabbed onto it as you hoisted him up. For someone with a Ph.D. in physics you would think that he would have a better sense of how to balance. It was just another cute quirk of his you loved.

“Some real breakfast?” He questioned.

“Yeah, your coffee with a “little” sugar,” you said.

“Ah, my real breakfast. So what’s going to be for lunch?” He asked.

You grabbed his hand to hold as you two walked through the park. You smirked at him as you looked him up and down. He blushed as he let you examine him from head to toe.

“Your encyclopedia’s of course,” you said.

“Wait, what? Why my encyclopedia’s?” He asked.

“Ah-ha, so there are more than one in your bag,” you said.

He sighed. “Was this your way of making me confess that you’re right again?”

“Yes.”

“So there’s no lunch?”

“You’re lunch.”

“Ah, I see you’re on a diet then.”

“You know what? I love that my humour’s rubbing off on you so well.”

“I think it’s a sign we belong in each other’s life for a long time to come.”

You laughed. “I’m not the romantic type but I have to agree.

“So how come I’ve told all my friends from work you’re the most romantic person I know?”

“Oh? I guess I’ll show you how romantic I can be during lunch.”

—–

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @bluerose512​ @laneybobeczko-g​ @averyhotchner​ @littlewierdalien @cynbx @mggsprettygirl​

[clouddd-hannn]

Fauna and Byrn Part 1

COUPLE: Park Seonghwa x M!Reader

GENRE: Fluff, Angst

SUMMARY: You were playing a game. A 5V5 MOBA where you play as a mage. You were a great mage and your hero was a female mage named Fauna who was engaged to a marksman named Byrn.

"Hah, take that," you shouted in your room as you achieved a 'double kill' by yourself after you were suddenly ambushed by those two players.

[All] [Kipoo(Agua)] kill fauna first

You chuckled to yourself as you continued to destroy the towers. As you did, you were shocked when suddenly, three players jumped into action as they attempted to kill your character, only for them to end up dead.

In the end, your team had won the battle and it was all thanks to your powerful Fauna skills. You brushed your nose in confidence as if to say 'stupid fools'. You grabbed a yogurt drink from your mini fridge and poked the top with a straw before pressing on 'match up'. Within 5 seconds, you managed to find a team.

You were already picking your heroes and after your teammates had seen you pick Fauna, they were annoyed. Fauna was a mage character in a MOBA game that was very underrated but is actually strong in both early and late games. Everyone thought Fauna was a useless mage. They trashtalked you, except for one. That person being the person who picked a very strong marksman, Byrn.

[Team] [Dragonmars(Byrn)]: go fauna!

Byrn was a marksman who was abandoned by his family at a young age, eventually being adopted by a noble family that became barren. As the only heir, he was told to find himself a wife, that's where he met Fauna, a successful experiment from a well-known professor. She was made from plants and dirt and because of a certain chemical, Fauna became a true human with extraordinary powers.

The two became engaged, of course and Fauna was always there to accompany Byrn on his daily missions which was hunting down ninjas and assassins.

This was just a game so you widened your eyes at the encouragement and smiled to yourself as you read the helpful statement. "I'll surely do, Byrn," you muttered to yourself as you turned your phone's brightness on more, to make you see clearly. "Let's get this."

Finally, your team was at the battle field and you were bombarded with foul words such as 'stupid', 'fauna weak', 'why her?', but only one stood out from those words. The Byrn player's sweet praises whenever you managed to kill a creeper or damage a tower. "Ha. Now that I'm at level 6, let's see who dominates the battle, idiots. Well, except for you Byrn player."

You were so into the game, you totally forgot about your report for your new job. Later, minutes went by and you were totally dominating the whole game. The trashtalkers were even shocked that Fauna could be this strong.

Later, while you were trying to destroy a tower, you didn't notice an opponent near you. It was only then did you know when the opponent's character started attacking you. "Ah shit!" you shouted as you began to fight for yourself. With only little HP left, you managed to survive after you were saved by Byrn's player who was jungling nearby.

You sighed contentedly as you returned back to the base.

[All] [Cutieeplayy(Fauna)] thanks. haha

[All] [Dragonmars(Byrn)] Don't touch my Fauna >:(

You just chuckled at that. I mean, this wasn't new. You were used to some players trying to flirt with you but you had zero interest in them.

The game ended with your team's victory and with the help of Byrn player's words, you managed to get the MVP role. Again. "Ah, feels good to be the MVP again," you mumbled proudly as you returned to the main lobby and was about to exit the game but your phone 'pinged' which meant someone had messaged you. "Does someone want to team up with moi~?" You joked with a giggle as you opened your chat boxes.

It's from Dragonmars, the Byrn player. You thought as you clicked the player's profile and was shocked when you saw the message.

[Dragonmars]:

:I love you, Fauna

You were surprised to say the least. This was a first someone...stayed? Who was that person? This person...did he just..? Is this a male? He checked to see and the person was indeed a male. I don't think he knows I am a male, obviously. I have my settings in private.

[Cutieeplayy]

:sorry, what?

[Dragonmars]

:Be mine. I'll buy you anything

[Cutieeplayy]

:this is just a game though..?

[Dragonmars]

:I don't care. Do you want her

skin?

[Cutieeplayy]

:'m good

You didn't reply to the chat anymore and focused more on ranking up than talking to a stranger dude that was willing to buy you Fauna's skins.

Later, while you were receiving some daily gifts and claiming rewards from completing tasks, you suddenly received a mail from someone. Who could this be? You thought then, you looked at it and saw that a player sent you Fauna's limited edition skin. The newly released one, the one you were working on for. You went to see who sent you the gift and it was that one Byrn player. What?!

"Holy fuck!" You cursed as you couldn't believe your eyes. This guy...is he serious?

You decided to message Dragonmars.

[Cutieeplayy]

:why did you give me that skin?

[Dragonmars]

:Because I want you to be my baby Fauna

:My main hero's Byrn so that's

good

[Cutieeplayy]

:seriously? this is just a game and

both fauna and byrn are playable

characters

[Dragonmars]

:Please?

[Cutieeplayy]

:no, but we can still team up to play

matches tho

[Dragonmars]

:Okay :))

You two played matches together and everytime your team wins and you were the MVP (which was most times), Dragonmars'd praise you and things. And everytime Dragonmars was the MVP, you would praise him as well and every time you did, you received a gift from him which was unnecessary for you but to Dragonmars, it was needed.

Eventually, you had managed to have all of Fauna's skin, all because Dragonmars wanted to. Seriously, does this guy ever lose money or does he shit dollars? You thought as you sighed in defeat. You looked at your saved money and then smiled. Maybe I should give him Byrn's Novice Skin.

Luckily, he still didn't have the skin so you gifted it to Dragonmars immediately.

[Dragonmars]

:Oh! Cutiee, you didn't have to

:I could've bought it on my own

[Cutieeplayy]

:i know but i wanted to buy you

something

[Dragonmars]

:Aw, thank you!

:Now, I have all of Byrn's skins

:You have all of Fauna's skins, too, now, right?

[Cutieeplayy]

:yeah but you didn't have to

it's a waste of your money and they're

just skins anyway

[Dragonmars]

:I don't mind if it's you though

[Cutieeplayy]

:haha

[Dragonmars]

:Oh! Have you heard that the developers

are gonna release a Fauna and Byrn

Valentines skin and Special skin?

[Cutieeplayy]

:oh yeah. i've heard.

[Dragonmars]

:You know what that means~

[Cutieeplayy]

:you're going to buy those skins, are you?

[Dragonmars]

:Yep! It's a 'couple skin' so we need to

have it

[Cutieeplayy]

:but mars, you don't have to

[Dragonmars]

:No. I'll buy it for you and then, when

we play matches together, we have

to use that skin

[Cutieeplayy]

:but were not like a 'duo' or something

[Dragonmars]

:Aw :(( Really? I could've guessed we were

:Heart been broke :(((

[Cutieeplayy]

:jeez okay fine. we can be a duo but

don't spend more money on me on

some skins

[Dragonmars]

:Alright

That's what he said, but he still ended up buying the skins anyway. You always wanted to refuse but you knew there was no changing that guy's mind. You two have used the skins though...until the day arrived, the day you were scared of happening arrived.

You were just leisurely hanging by the game's main Home lobby, when you were notified that someone had messaged you. You were actually waiting for Dragonmars to go online so maybe it was him. You checked your messages and widened your eyes in shock upon seeing his message.

[Dragonmars]

:Where do you live, Cutiee?

You were hesitating. Should you...tell him? You double-guessed but, with a sigh, decided to tell him anyway. I mean, what are the odds that he could be living in the same area as you were, right? You scoffed as you typed up a reply to answer Dragonmars' question.

[Cutieeplayy]

:seoul

[Dragonmars]

:Wait, what?! Seriously?

:Oh god! I'm so blessed

[Cutieeplayy]

:what? why?

[Dragonmars]

:I live in Seoul, too!

Oh God, no. Please don't say it. Please don't say it. Please don't say it.

[Dragonmars]

:We can like meet up, you know?

Fuck.

[Cutieeplayy]

:uhm...no not really. i'm always busy

[Dragonmars]

:Don't be shy

:I'm definitely sure you're a pretty girl

Oh, right. He doesn't know I'm a guy. You thought as you sighed then looked back at the message.

[Cutieeplayy]

:i'm sorryy..

[Dragonmars]

:Oh that's fine.

:I can still add you on Kakao right?

[Cutieeplayy]

:no. just this account pls

[Dragonmars]

:Oh, okay then

Days went by and you two rarely played matches together anymore. Whenever you went online, you refuse Dragonmars' invites. But soon, you began wondering why you were being so cold to Mars when he's done nothing wrong. So, without wasting time, you decided to chat him.

[Cutieeplay]

:mars?

:you here?

:i can see you're on though

:i'm sorry that i can't meet you

:i'm just really socially awkward and i

don't want to embarass you

[Dragonmars]

:Don't be sorry

:How can you embarass me? If anything,

I'll join you on the fun

:A person doesn't like you enough if he's

embarrassed of you

[Cutieeplayy]

:i'm really sorry

[Dragonmars]

:That's fine :))

:It was totally a dumb idea for me

to say that. We are complete

strangers, anyway. Who knows

if you could be a criminal?

You chuckled before looking at your mirror. Pretty sure he'll be shocked when he finally finds out I'm a guy who loves dicks. You huffed as you looked back at your phone then just stared at it. Should we...meet up? Is it a good time? You bit your lip at the anxiety that was currently bubbling inside you as you typed in a message.

[Cutieeplay]

:i want to tell you something

but i want to tell you in person

Part 2

[3mmafr0st]

Remember Me Part 3

Previous Part <-------> Next Part

Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Y/N has escaped, but where does she go from here?  Word Count: 1.5k (Sorry this ones a little short)

Warnings: Homelessness, a striking lack of Bucky, but soon my friends, soon, ANGST, reader not understanding computers very well A/N: Im apologizing for the lack of smut in this part, but I really like following the canon

I was woken up abruptly by a quick jab to the ribs, quickly waking up and going into action. I grabbed the object and twisted it away.

“Hey, I’m not looking for a fight here, just wanted to make sure that you didn’t overdose on whatever you were on last night.” I looked up to see the older man that had talked to me the night before. He was in his forties and dirty looking, but had kind eyes, shielded by a pair of small glasses. “Can’t have the cops pokin’ around here, bad for everyone.” I got up from the wet grass, wiping myself off from anything that may have gotten on me. 

“For the record, I wasn’t high.”

“Could have fooled me.” I shook my head, rolling my eyes. He couldn’t have understood the intensity of the situation that I was in. Hydra was probably after me, and I had no idea where to go or what to do about it.

I couldn’t help but think about Bucky, what happened to him and where he was right now. He had to have gotten out, right? He was a better agent than I was, simply in physicality. He had the capability to escape, we would find each other. But how had they found us out? There must have been some sort of suspicion, something that tipped the higher ups off about what we were going to do. How could I have been so careless to allow someone to find out the plan. But that was the past now, I had to focus on what happens next. 

“Where’s the closest library?”

I walked down the sidewalk toward the library, trying my best to blend in, looking inconspicuous against the crowd. I was lucky enough that the closest library was only two blocks away, I was already a little tired from last night with everything that happened. 

I looked to my left, and sure enough, there was a quaint little library that looked cozy. I shook the handle and pushed at the door, thankful that it was open earlier than most places. 

The walls were covered in children’s drawings. I knew I shouldn’t be wasting time, but the entire thing was so uncanny, so unabashedly civilian, something I hadn’t experienced in who knows how long.  At the small front desk sat a woman, maybe in her thirties with a small name tag.

“Hello miss, anything I could help you with today?” She smiled sweetly at me, welcoming me into the library. 

“Actually, do you guys have computers that the public can use?”

“Yes, they’re right over in the corner.”

“Thank you, also, do you happen to have some paper and something to write with?” She turned around, picking some paper and a pen up and handing it to me. I returned her smile and headed over to the out of date computers sitting at the back of the room. 

I turned the old thing on, a sound a little bit like music coming out of the speakers as it booted up. It was then that I remembered that although I’ve shoved a flash drive in one of these and let things happen until it said “COMPLETE,” I wasn’t too familiar with computers .  Sure I had wanted to work with those beautiful machines, simply being left alone with one for an hour with a manual and figuring out all of it’s secrets. I had no idea what in me was pushing me so much towards them, but it was there.

Once the machine turned on, I looked at the display. Luckily, it wasn’t too difficult to figure out, there were only two little icons on the screen, and the one that looked like a little trash can was probably not what I wanted. The other was a little colorful circle called “Chrome.” Personally, I didn't see what was chrome about it but I clicked it, and a screen popped up. The word “Google'' was written across the middle of the screen along with a small bar with a picture of a magnifying glass at the left side. 

It took me a minute, but I figured out what I needed to do. The first thing that I could think of to search for was Bucky. I typed his name into the search bar and pressed enter, and tons of results flooded the screen.

The problem was that I didn’t know any of the concrete facts about him. I knew that his name was Bucky, and how he was sweet and funny even though we’ve both been through so much, but I didn’t know his last name, or when he was born, or even how old he was. 

There was a little tab called images that made the most sense to me. If I could find a picture of him in the pool of “Bucky”s that existed in the world, I could find out who he was, and then hopefully, figure out who I was from there. There were many pictures, at first it was overwhelming, but as I scrolled slightly, I found it, found him. 

He looked younger, more innocent, with a short haircut and a blue leather jacket that made me swoon a little bit. He looked different, but I couldn’t mistake those beautiful blue eyes. I clicked on the picture, which led me to a sight called Wikipedia, with his photo in the corner. 

“James Buchanan Barnes, born on March 10th, 1917, was a member of the Howling commandos and best friend to Steve Rogers (Captain America).”

I continued reading, writing down the important bits , how he was tested on by HYDRA way back in 1943, and how he was supposedly killed after falling from a train. But he couldn’t have died, I didn’t know him back then, I knew him now. 

The name Steve Rogers continuously popped up, so I clicked on it, and was flooded with even more information. Once I had everything I had to know written down after the rabbit hole I had been down, I turned to the librarian to ask her one last question.

“Do you think you could give me directions to Avengers Tower?”

I would have preferred to take a cab but I couldn't without money, so walking 20 blocks was my only option. The tower was huge, and I found it much too easy to walk right in. There were people walking and sitting at tables in the lobby, working at filling out paperwork. I went up to the desk, not allowing them to get a word in before I could say what I needed to. 

“I need to speak with Steve Rogers.”

“Ma’am, if you just give us a moment, we can help you.”

“No, you don’t understand, everyone here is in danger, Bucky is in danger.” A man in the back stood up, walking towards me to get a better look at me. His hair was graying and his glasses filled up most of his face. He looked pale, as if he had just seen a ghost. 

“Y/N?”

“Get this shit away from me! I told you, I need to talk to Steve Rogers, he’s the only one who will understand.”

“Y/N, I know you don’t remember but we need to do some tests.”

“Please, just get me in touch with him!”

The lab, I’ll admit, was friendlier than most that I had been in. The room was filled with computers and scientific equipment that I really wanted to go and play with for some Rita’s on. There were nodes stuck to my forehead that were oddly gentle, but I still didn’t like the feeling.There was a small TV connected to the ceiling showing the news. A woman’s voice was heard over the mess that was being filmed. 

“In breaking news today, wanted fugitive from S.H.I.E.L.D., Captain America, has been spotted in Washington D.C. battling with a masked stranger in the middle of the highway. “

I  looked to the screen and immediately recognized him, It was Bucky, my Bucky, fighting it out with Steve Rogers. He had taken off his goggles, the two of them fighting with an intensity that I had never seen before. The only person that could match Bucky in a fight like that was me, so this was damn impressive. 

“There! There he is, you need to get me to Washington D.C!”

“Y/N, you need to calm down, we need to help you first.” A second man began to get near me, pulling the leg of my pants up, exposing the metallic nature of my left leg. I panicked and kicked the man away, sending him across the room. 

“I don’t need help, I need to get to Washington D.C., and how the hell do you know my name?” I pushed the man off of me and got up, trying to get out of the lab. I had almost made it out of the door when I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I immediately felt woozy, falling back into the chair closest to me.

“It’s gonna be ok, Stats, I’m gonna take care of you,” The graying man from earlier said, helping me back into the lab chair from earlier with music less resistance than before. My vision got spotty, as his wistful, almost bittersweet facial expression was the last thing I saw before total blackness.

[andypantsx3]

ab intra | 4 | in flagrante delicto

pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi / Reader

length: 18,811 words / 6 chapters

summary: When a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, underground hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What’s even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.

tags: romance, thriller, misunderstandings, pro hero AU, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, suicide mentions, brainwashing, consensual mind control, some violence

The villain struck again only days later. This time, they had gotten sloppy.

The call came into your offices just as you were nearing the end of your shift, an alert forwarded to you and several others by dispatch. One witness had managed to call the police as the people around them fell screaming--confirming your hypothesis that it was a visually-triggered quirk. This witness had been blind.

You launched yourself into the passenger seat of a cruiser, Aya just managing to get in behind you before it took off. You called Shinsou as the car sped towards another bank, this time at the edge of the city--the hero had been out on another call, something he’d said was urgent but refused to explain further, so he hadn’t been at the precinct when the call came in.

He didn’t pick up and your ire increased, leaving a short but very curse-heavy message on his answering tone. “Get to the fucking bank now,” you commanded before hanging up. This is why you hated working with heroes.

What the hell was the point of having a hero partner if he was going to leave the police force--made up mostly of those whose quirks were not useful enough to have launched them into heroics in the first place--to battle a fucking mind manipulation villain on their own? Was he making a point of helping only on the parts of the case that could have benefitted from a hero least, leaving you high and dry when you could actually use his stupid fucking scarf-mask-whatever quirk?

The cruiser pulled up to the side of the bank, several others screeching up beside it.

“We think the quirk is triggered visually,” you informed the other officers as you leapt out, strapping on a bullet proof vest like it would do anything to protect you from a quirk that invaded the inner confines of your brain. “We think the villain works with at least one other person, quirk unknown. To the best of your ability, attempt to apprehend both villains without looking at them. If you have to, try looking at them through some other media; your helmet visors, the scope of a rifle, any reflective surfaces. We don’t know exactly how this quirk works yet, please take every precaution you possibly can think of before engaging--”

You were cut off by the side of the bank blowing clear open, and several officers around you whipped their heads up, only to immediately go down, clutching their skulls and screaming.

Your eyes widened in terror and you quickly ducked down, hiding your face. The villains knew the police were here, and were escaping. And those officers had had visors on, meaning the mind quirk could work through other media as well.

You were fucked.

The crunch of one pair of boots through the rubble told you the mind quirk villain had spotted your division and turned, picking up speed to tear in the opposite direction. You chanced a look up and caught sight of a lean figure in a dark suit breaking into a full run.

“Unit one, after them!” Aya yelled, turning to you quickly as she unstrapped her gun. “I don’t think anyone else came out--you said there were at least two, right?”

You nodded.

“Okay then there’s someone still in there. I’ll get mind freak, you get the others,” then she darted away, several other officers hot on her heels.

Your stomach churned with the thought of stopping her. It was dangerous to chase down a villain like that--especially given what you had just seen. You didn’t know what happened once the villain got ahold of a person’s mind, but from the look of the officers still writhing on the ground in front of you--it looked like they all but blew up their brain.

You took a deep breath and shadowed the backs of the other officers making their way towards the still-smoking hole in the side of the building, unholstering your gun. You nervously thumbed off the safety.

Raids were your least favorite part of your job as an investigator. You much preferred being tucked up over case files, the gears in your brain working, a coffee (or seven) in hand. Raids and arrests always made your gut churn with nerves, and you felt shivery with adrenaline, anticipation sliding slick under your skin when it had nowhere else to go.

You followed the officers as they carefully picked their way into the bank, passing under the remains of the thick wall, hanging with metal framing and shredded cement. The inside of the bank was much darker after the brightness of the early evening sun and it took a couple moments for you to adjust.

When you did, you could see the floor of the main lobby was littered with rubble, glass and plaster blown out from the cubicles to stud the tile, and every movement you made echoed with a crunch underfoot. Several bodies lay scattered at the edge of the room, and two officers darted over. You could see the rapid rise and fall of the victims’ chests, though, the way their limbs twitched and contorted with the aftershocks of whatever the mental quirk did. They were alive, at least.

You followed several other officers through the main lobby and through the doorway that looked like it led into the main offices beyond. A thrill of foreboding went through you as you entered--who was waiting for you beyond? How many of them were there? What kind of quirk did they have?

You passed quietly down the hall, the only sounds your careful breaths and the soft scuff of boots. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a soft, sinuous movement. You turned sharply to find a shadow slipping into the wall. You stopped, and an officer behind you paused.

“Someone just went through the wall,” he said. There was a long moment of tense silence, and the two men ahead of you glanced back.

Suddenly, they were wrenched violently into the opposite wall by some unseen force. Both of their heads slammed heavily into the plaster, and they fell to the floor, limp.

Your heartbeat kicked into overdrive and you cast about wildly for whoever had just done that, fingers tightening on your gun. Then, just down the hall, a man peeked out from behind an office door as if to check his handiwork and you trained your gun on him.

“Come out with your hands up,” you commanded, heartbeat hammering in your chest.

He watched you silently for a moment, then slipped further into the hallway, raising his hands slowly towards his ears. He made no movement, but a small smile curled his lip. Then a weird feeling slithered over your skin, a tight tug like a magnet was pulling every fiber in your body towards it, and you had only seconds to realize what he was doing.

“I think it’s a magnetization quirk, back out of the room,” you said loudly, even as you could feel your weight shifting, your toes slipping out from under you, gravity no longer the greatest force governing your body. There was a moment where it felt like every neuron in you snapped forward, and then you were being wrenched towards the man.

You swore, kicking your feet out as if to stop your slide, but they only slipped uselessly along the floor. The man’s smile widened into a grin, and he reached inside his jacket quickly, pulling out a wicked, curved blade, angled up towards your throat. Your feet strained against the floor and your heart pulsed wildly in your throat like it could choke you. He was going to pull you straight into the knife. He was going to pull you straight into the knife and plunge it straight into your throat and there was nothing you could do about it.

You struggled to line your gun up, but your whole arm felt locked up. You couldn’t get a good alignment, you couldn’t train it on him in time, you were feet away now, you were going to--

Something caught your arm and wrenched you back, throwing you sideways through the door of a cubicle. You rolled along the floor, shoulder connecting painfully with a filing cabinet. You gasped, losing the grip on your gun and it clattered loudly against the floor. You lay there for a brief second, closing your eyes and exhaling shakily.

Then you shook your head and rolled to your knees, grabbing your gun up and aiming it through the doorway. White strips of what looked like fabric slithered through the air beyond the door, and your eyes narrowed. That looked like--

A head of messy indigo hair poked through the door, violet eyes narrowing in on you. That dark mask was strapped over his face but you could hear him clearly through it.

“You okay, kitten?”

A weird, shuddery wave of relief went through you.

“Shinsou,” you gasped out. “You’re here.”

You couldn’t see his mouth through the mask but the crinkle of his eyes told you he was smirking. “Sit tight for me, kitten. I got this guy.”

“He’s got a magnetization quirk, I think,” you said as Shinsou turned to face the man at the end of the hall. You watched his eyes trail over the villain dismissively. “Move out of the way if you feel your skin start buzzing.”

Shinsou stared the man down. “What’s your name?” he asked, voice hard.

There was no response and Shinsou’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to come quietly?” he asked.

Again, no response. Shinsou sighed and his arm shifted, pulling the scarf through the air in a complicated series of twists. Watching it move you wondered what kind of quirk it was that he had, to manipulate it like that. Was it a fiber manipulation quirk, like Best Jeanist? Did it affect only one kind of fabric, is that why he carried such a long length around with him?

The network of twists shot towards the man at the end of the hall, and you heard a crash as he upended something, dodging and dashing down the corridor to the left. The loud slap of his feet picked up, and you scrambled to your feet, racing after Shinsou as he started forward after the man.

You darted around the corner after them, avoiding a shower of heavy objects that the villain pulled out of the rooms with a wave of his hand, sending them hurtling through the air at you. A microwave came shooting out of the breakroom and Shinsou skidded to a stop, whirling on you and slamming you into the wall right as it came sailing past your head. His body covered yours almost completely, pressing you flat against the wall, and you stared up at him in shock.

“Thanks again,” you managed.

“Anytime, kitten.” His eyes glittered down at you for a single second and then he was off again, his boots loud in the hall. You shook yourself and darted after him.

The villain fell through an emergency exit out into the street, rolling to his feet and narrowly avoiding the end of Shinsou’s scarf. He ripped the door clean off its hinges with a pull of his arm and sent it spinning back at Shinsou. Shinsou managed to dodge, sliding just under it as it sliced through the air, and he rolled to his feet again, turning to face the man.

“Why don’t you speak, hmm?” he taunted.

The man cast about, waving his arms to peel more things off the street and into the air. He seemed determined not to acknowledge Shinsou--was he that scared of him?

A voice echoed from the other end of the street, rough and grainy and sounding weirdly like your captain, who never went out on assignment. “Tokyo PD, you’re under arrest. We do not want to hurt you. Will you come peacefully?”

The man raised his head, looking up at you and Shinsou with a smirk.

“Peacefully? You fucks can stick it up your--” he froze, eyes widening, and a strange shudder went through him before all his limbs locked up. The grates he had pulled from the street went clattering to the pavement, and his eyes seemed to go unfocused and cloudy. His eyelashes fluttered wildly for just a second, like he was trying to throw something off, and then he gasped. “You!” he managed, his words oddly slurred, “You--tricked me--”

“Quiet,” Shinsou snapped and the man’s mouth clicked audibly shut.

You stared. Then, a shiver of apprehension slid slowly along your spine. The villain had just looked up at Shinsou and gone slack. Then it looked like Shinsou had just commanded him and he’d...done it.

“Stay still and put your wrists out,” Shinsou ordered, stalking forward and pulling restraints off his belt. The man complied obediently, and your stomach clenched.

He was acting...like he was completely under Shinsou’s control.

A stampede of footsteps echoed behind you, and several officers came spilling out of the bank and into the street. You stood frozen as one of them moved forward to take hold of the villain roughly. Shinsou released him easily, watching with satisfaction as the man was hauled towards a squad car.

Suddenly, his words from the casino echoed in your head. “I think you will find, however, that I am even more accustomed to control.”

A wave of horror washed through you.

Shinsou knew so much about mind manipulation quirks not because he had history with someone on the other side of this case, but because he had a mind manipulation quirk himself. The scarf wasn’t part of his quirk, but a support item like a capture weapon, and Shinsou had a mind manipulation quirk.

The events that you had just witnessed replayed themselves on a loop in your brain. The villain had been determined not to acknowledge Shinsou, but almost as soon as he had looked up at him, he’d been caught. It was like he had known what Shinsou’s quirk was ahead of time and was taking pains to not engage with him.

And then he had hissed something, just as he fell under Shinsou’s control, hadn’t he? “You,” he’d said. “You tricked me.”

This villain had known of Shinsou ahead of time. This villain who worked with a visually-triggered mind quirk user had known of Shinsou, and when he’d looked at him, he’d been caught.

Something clicked in your brain.

Suddenly, all Shinsou’s caginess, his interest in this case, his reasons for wanting to distract you, everything all lined up. What if Shinsou wasn’t just a hero on loan for a simple investigation? What if, instead, Shinsou was a villain trying to get a handle on his own case?

It would be easy enough for any mind quirk user to get access, now that you thought about it. All they had to do was to find out which office was working the case and they could breeze into the precinct and brainwash people into compliance. Had Shinsou come into your precinct and done the same thing to your captain? Had Shinsou ever done the same thing to you?

The tread of boots on gravel pulled you out of your thoughts, and a small thrill of fear went down your spine as you saw Shinsou making his way over to you.

You quickly clamped down on all your emotions, schooling your features into a mask. Shinsou couldn’t know what you suspected.

“You okay, kitten?” he asked, ducking his head to look into your face. Those violet eyes searched over you, a calloused hand reaching out to take your chin.

You tamped down on a twitch. Cool, you had to play it cool. Act normal until you could get back to the precinct offices and figure out a plan. It was likely that Shinsou wouldn’t allow his partner that you’d just caught to sell him out, so you had to find another way to catch him out. You couldn’t give yourself away until you were sure of how to trap him.

Normal. You could act normal.

“I don’t know. Some asshole threw me into a filing cabinet,” you said, forcing an annoyed look onto your features.

Shinsou chuckled and his long fingers trailed down to your shoulder, delicately ghosting over the place where you’d connected with the filing cabinet. You suppressed a shiver.

“Want me to kiss it better?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

A mortifying blush spread across your face and you turned away from him, stomping back to a squad car. “The only thing you can kiss is my ass,” you ground out.

You heard him laugh, and you stuffed yourself into the car, closing the door to shut him out.

You let out a breath.

This was going to be hard. You couldn’t talk to anyone about this in case Shinsou caught on to what you were doing. You would have to investigate this alone, and play it very safe around him in case he suspected you’d figured him out.

But you could do this. You’d solved every case that had come across your desk before, and you would close this one too.

You would solve this. You would catch Hitoshi Shinsou.

[theepsizet]

Let’s talk about Allison and Tom

There’s been a discussion regarding these two characters: an Alice and her Boris and there’s also been a lot of theories regarding them and/or their identities. So this post is basically me slapping my thoughts on the table. And here it is:

Allison Angel and Tom!Boris are in fact Allison Pendle and Thomas Connor. But you can’t take everything about them presented in BATIM for granted.

This theory first came from this video by MatPat, whose main subject was to discuss Henry and even had good backing reasoning/evidence for his status and what-he-is in-game. He also mentions how Allison and Tom’s names aren’t on coffins and therefore can’t be Allison Pendle and Thomas Connor. If anything, they’re actually soulless; Joey was unable to get their souls.

First problem: MatPat completely glosses over a detail confirmed by Joey in Chapter 5 from this audio log:

“Listen Tommy, I know you boys over at Gent are doing your best, but I'm paying for living attractions, not weird abominations! Whatever that grinning thing was I saw wandering around your office, you better keep it locked up tight! I realize it was a first attempt but imagine if the press caught sight of it! Might scare off investors! And in response to your previous memo: If you claim your failures are because these things are soulless, then, damn it, we'll get them a soul! After all, I own thousands of 'em!”

Did you get that? The reason Ink Bendy is off-model is because he doesn’t possess a soul. If they were soulless, Allison and Tom would look... pretty demonic. But they’re not; they’re on-model, resembling their cartoon counterparts near-perfectly (the biggest difference is, of course, their attire such as Allison’s ponytail and dress and Tom’s robotic arm)

Second problem: He never explains why their names are Allison Angel and Tom. MatPat doesn’t elaborate on this fact and just calls them that and moves on with the video.

So, my take. The game files reveal unused secret messages, and these messages do in fact reveal that Allison and Tom’s names are absent; confirming that they don’t have coffins:

(originally posted by thedreamfisher)

So, they’re alive, right? Well...

In Chapter 4 there’s an audio log labeled “Untitled”. The entire audio log is just somebody gruesomely transforming into an ink monster, most likely a searcher if one goes off of the moaning. According to the game files, its Grant Cohen. Not to mention, in the first BATDR gameplay trailer, look what happens to Audrey’s hand when she uses her power:

(originally posted by thedreamfisher)

When Audrey uses her power, her hand changes. It literally turns into ink. Both these scenarios confirm that killing people and stuffing their souls through a machine isn’t the only way to reincarnate people as living cartoons. My theory is that at some point, Allison Connor exchanged enough letters with Joey that he could convince her and Thomas to return to the studio. Similar to Henry, they became so exposed to the ink that it literally transformed them into perfect toons. They were then reborn from the ink produced by the Giant Machine (we’ll get back to this). The dark truth is that, Allison Angel and Tom!Boris are Joey’s best outcomes from his experiment. Not to mention, Allison says this to Henry:

“I... I honestly don't know my name. So they call me Alice.”

“He [Tom] just seems to respond to it [his name].”

It’s a fact that the ink corrupts the mind. Sammy’s Hot Topic Q&A confirms that his memory deteriorated, and considering that these answers come from when Sammy is The Prophet, it wouldn’t be too unlikely to conclude that the ink did this to him. So, when Allison and Tom were reborn, the ink corrupted their minds so much they basically became amnesiac.

Speaking of reborn, notice what Allison says when talking about the ink in general and why she can’t come with Henry for the final battle:

“...you don't want to touch the ink for too long. It can claim you, pull you back.”

“We can't! We're not like you, Henry. If we go in there, well... a drop of water in the ocean is never seen again.”

It wouldn’t be surprising that they were born out of the bigger ink machine (and we have now officially come back to this). Given its size, the smaller one — the actual one, the one that — wouldn’t be able to produce enough ink to fill entire caverns (the underground levels). It also makes a lot of sense given the context: too much ink would make them unable to fight back, and too little wouldn’t do much effect at all. Both would literally become a drop of water in the ocean if they went with Henry. Not to mention that the first phrase is similar to part of Twisted Alice’s monologue when Henry enters her lair:

“Take this little freak for instance! He crawled in here... trailing his tainted ink to my door! It could have touched me! It could have pulled me back! Do you know what it's like? Living in the dark puddles? It's a buzzing, screaming well of voices! Bits of your mind, swimming like, like fish in a bowl! The first time I was born from its' inky womb, I was a wriggling, pussing, shapeless slug. The second time... well... it made me an angel! I will not let the demon touch me again.”

Now, here’s what I mean when I say you can’t take every word of there’s for granted. The truth is that it’s entirely clear what their motivations and there are several instances where things seem highly suspicious regarding these two:

In Allison and Tom’s hideout, Allison’s graffiti contains a list of levels that are crossed out. If one reviews the cutscene at the beginning of the chapter, it is revelated that throughout Henry’s time as prisoner, the levels are listed and then crossed out, as well as more of her drawings being inscribed onto the walls. It’s almost like they’re looking for something

There’s, weirdly enough, graffiti of the Seeing Tool outside the Administration Lobby. Were they done in that level before? If not, why is it there?

Considering that both of them are pretty experienced around the studio (Allison does know what the Lost Harbor is, and is a professional swordsmaster), Allison doesn’t even use her sword to slice off the boards of the prison cell door. Tom even has an axe and doesn’t do anything.

Tom starts off completely distrustful and treating Henry through spite. He almost immediately becomes part of Henry’s side.

Allison asks Henry to lead the way down the floorless hall. Even after she calls out his name, she doesn’t really grab on top him; she just let’s him fall (although this statement is confusing on its own as Henry falls way to fast for him to look up and see their reactions; its probably not even possible to see their reactions without hacking)

(originally posted on this page and this page of the Bendy wiki)

@thedreamfisher​ suggests that they could be manipulating Henry. and to be honest, yeah... that’s exactly what they’re doing. Why they’re doing it, though, is difficult to pin down, but my theory — yes, that is the theory part — is maybe because of one obvious fact: Henry isn’t like them at all. Allison even says this is why she and Tom can’t really trust them, and Twisted Alice confirms he’s “so interesting... so different...”. Compare this to the way Allison talks to Audrey in the BATDR trailers (this and this). She’s a lot more open, honest, more like a mentor and willing to tell her a lot more than she would to Henry, possibly because she resembles that of a lost one (why Henry’s avatar is completely invisible when hacking and what is a subject to debate for another time).

Allison knows Henry is different and may be manipulating Henry because she wants to turn off the machine. Tom too. Why do you think she calls him “the hope [she’s] been waiting for” and tells him that he “[can] set [them] free”. But, here’s the catch: this doesn’t make them bad. There’s been a number of theories that they’re bad people, but this manipulation only shows they have good intentions; if anything, they’re more of the most basic, generic definition of antihero.

And this makes even more sense when the conversation between Buddy Lewek, Allison Pendle, and Thomas Connor is reviewed in Chapter. It’s a lot of dialogue, and I’m not going to copy and paste the entire thing, but the most important anecdotes is that they hint to have more knowledge of the machine and its functions than the average employee. They also imply two things: they seem to be aware of Susie’s fate (most likely what happened after Joey gave her an offer hinted in audio logs in Chapter 4 and 5) and that they can’t stop Joey at all. It’s hinted by Allison that she and Tom both needed the job, and that they committed to his decisions because of the pay. Tom mentions how Joey treated him well, and Joey claims from a memo to clipped in the Joey Drew Studios Employee Handbook that he’s fascinated by Allison and her personality.

So... yeah. That’s it. Feel free to comment.

(One-finale note: The idea/credit of Allison and Tom being born out of the bigger ink machine and the manipulation aspect all goes to thedreamfisher. Do not give me credit for this idea) 

[thecassadilla]

Change of Pace - Chapter 2

Pairing: Kristanna

Chapter 2 on AO3 

Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,332

Summary: With her sister’s blessing, Anna takes a step back from her royal duties and finds herself working for a ski resort nestled in the mountains. A chance encounter with the resort’s maintenance technician leads them down an unexpected path, as they must work together to plan the resort’s annual ball - and maybe fall in love in the process.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Sorry to leave you all with a cliffhanger last week! This chapter picks up on the same day but from a different perspective ;). I’m thinking I’m gonna update on Tuesdays every week if that’s cool? Or should I try to update more often? Also, if you celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you enjoy the holiday safely! Sorry for all the asterisked words - tumblr likes to censor and remove posts from tags if they have “bad” words in them, but the uncensored version is on AO3. Enjoy!!!

There were very fews words that Kristoff Bjorgman would use to describe his life; miserable, mundane, ordinary. From the minute he woke up in the morning until the minute he went to bed at night, he wished he were someone or somewhere else.

Nobody stayed in Valley of the Living Rock - often shortened to Valley - if they could help it. The main draw to the area was Valley Ski Resort, which was nestled in the mountains. For decades, the town flourished during the winter months, but suffered as warm weather drew near due to the resort’s influence. Most of the people who stayed in town year round lived above their means, as it was difficult to find and keep work when the money practically dried up in the summertime. That all changed when the resort began to expand - adding amenities such as a pool, archery, horseback riding, and a multitude of events that attracted people during the hottest months of the year.

After the resort expanded, the local government decided to put money into the town itself, enticing visitors to venture away from the resort during their visits and see what the town had to offer. Tourists began to appreciate Valley itself as a picturesque, quaint town they could visit during their stay at the resort, and money began to pour into the local economy. Deciding to take full advantage, the decision was made for the main street to be transformed to a “Winter Wonderland,” with the storefronts adorning themselves with string lights, wreaths, and pine garland in the colder months. Business boomed and as the years went on, more and more people came to visit.

For Kristoff, life in Valley was bleak. Abandoned at birth, it was difficult to navigate the foster system as a small, generally “unwanted” child. He was bounced around a lot in his early years before becoming one of the lucky few who managed to find a family willing and able to foster him until adulthood. But people talked, and in small towns like his, that gossip traveled fast. By the time he made it to high school, he had hardly any friends. The only good thing that had ever happened to him - aside from his family - was his ex-girlfriend, Joslyn. She moved to Valley in their senior year of high school, and was as much of an outcast as he was. They became fast friends and eventually started a relationship. She stuck around for a few years and attended the local community college while they dated, but like everyone else who had the opportunity, she eventually moved on. The breakup was amicable and he admittedly missed her from time to time, but also understood that where she was going was bigger and better than what Valley - and he - had to offer. 

As a junior in high school, he’d managed to snag a job at Valley Ski Resort as a janitor, and then after he graduated, he took courses in plumbing, electricity, and heating, ventilation, and air conditioning in order to be promoted to a maintenance technician. It was a year round job with sh*tty pay, but it put food on the table and he had to take whatever he could get. On the bright side, it was a step up from cleaning bathrooms and mopping floors. There was no escaping Valley, for a person like him.

He didn’t mind the work at all, but there were few words to describe how much he loathed the hotel. The people who visited were willing to spend a fortune on the amenities, but were generally unkempt behind closed doors. He could think of several occasions where he’d nearly slipped on a used c*ndom after being called to a guest room for maintenance, or how frequently the pipes would clog because people were determined to flush non-flushable items. 

But still, he went to work everyday, and waited to go home. He did what he had to do and he hated every second of it. The only advantage of working at the resort was the employee ski pass that came along with it. He frequently spent his weekends navigating the slopes and had worked his way up to expert-level. Coasting down the side of a mountain was freeing. For those few hours, he could put aside the monotonous life that he lived and could focus on what was right in front of him. 

On this particular day, he had a sinking feeling about heading into work. He just knew that something bad was going to happen - he could feel it in his chest. He debated calling out, but because he couldn’t afford to miss a day without pay, he had to go in, bad feeling or not. The feeling only got worse as he climbed out of his car and stared at the main building in front of him.

The interior of the resort was in desperate need of an upgrade; faded, worn-out gray carpet covered the floors of the lobby area, and old-school style wood paneling laced the walls. The guest rooms in the central building remained the least expensive as a result of this, and as part of the resort’s expansion process, dozens of stand-alone cabins were built on the property. Difficult to maintain, but guests were willing to pour money into spending a week in a luxury cabin with the same amenities as a hotel but with the added benefit of a home-y feel. 

He walked in through the employee entrance, which happened to be situated right next to the lobby area but was only accessible from the outside. Down a long stretch of hall and then to the left sat the maintenance office. One of the perks of the job was that he didn’t have to wear coveralls like he did when he was a janitor; just dark-colored jeans, a company-provided shirt with the hotel’s name stitched onto the front, and work boots. He dropped his jacket in his locker, grabbed one of the work cell phones so that the front desk could reach if he was needed for a repair or other issue, and walked into the main office, where his boss, Andrew, was scrolling through his email.

“Hey, man,” he said.

The other man glanced back for a second before returning to his work. “Hey, Kristoff.”

“What’s on the agenda today?”

“Nothing crazy,” Andrew responded. “A couple of rooms complained of low water pressure, so we’ll have to check that out. It’s probably calcium buildup that’s clogging the showerheads, or a clog, or something. But aside from that, it seems like it’s going to be a pretty normal day.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

He didn’t mind working with Andrew; he was quiet and kept to himself, which Kristoff appreciated. It was easier to work with someone who didn’t waste half the day with gossip or other nonsense. Having a job was about getting work done, after all.

Andrew had a list of the rooms that had been experiencing the low water pressure from the front desk complaints, so when he finished answering his emails, they set off to figure out what exactly was happening and why it was happening. “I bet another pipe froze again.”

“This hotel is so old, do they even realize that the pipes probably have to be replaced?”

“They know, they just won’t listen,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “This is going to be a losing battle for the rest of eternity.”

Just as they made it to the first floor of guest rooms, a call came over on Andrew’s work phone. They stopped in the middle of the hallway so he could pick it up. 

“Hello, this is Andrew from maintenance,” he answered, scrunching his face up in concentration. “They said the water smelled bad? Did they say if it was a weird color or anything?...okay, we’ll look into it. Thanks.”

“Another water complaint?” Kristoff asked, once Andrew had hung up the phone.

“Yeah, something weird is going on today.”

“Probably a frozen pipe, like you said.”

They knocked on the door of the first guest on their list, and a woman answered. “Are you the maintenance guys?”

“We are ma’am. The front desk told us that your water pressure is low, do you mind if we come in and take a look?”

The woman shook her head. “I didn’t say low water pressure. I said no water pressure - as in, there’s no water, at all.”

The two men exchanged a worried glance before Andrew spoke up again. “Do you mind if we have a look?”

The woman didn’t answer, but stepped out of the way so they could walk into the room. They went into the bathroom, and attempted to turn the faucets to no avail. 

The woman was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “Well?”

“We’re trying to figure out what’s going on, ma’am. We’re going to check in with a few more guests and the front desk will get back to you.” 

“I’m taking my family skiing, and all I have to say is that the water better be working when I get back or someone will be getting an earful from me. I did not spend all of this money to wind up in a room with no water!”

They nodded in an attempt to placate her and as soon as they made it back into the hallway, she slammed the door in their faces. 

“God, I hate this place,” Kristoff muttered.

“I don’t understand how people on vacation can be so f*cking miserable. Management will make sure they get a more expensive room on the house if there’s nothing we can do about it, so I don’t really see the point of throwing a fit.”

“I know. It’s kind of disgusting how entitled some of these people are. I understand the frustration, but don’t yell at the people who are trying to figure out what the problem is.” Kristoff shook his head. “Let’s go to the next one.”

The routine seemed to repeat itself; the rooms were occupied by extremely angry guests who were experiencing a myriad of plumbing issues - either little or no water pressure, foul smelling water, or rust-colored water.

“Something big is going on here. Bigger than just a frozen pipe,” Andrew deduced, after visiting several guests’ rooms and being called a few more times by the front desk. “I can’t figure out what it is though.”

“Do you think a pipe burst somewhere?” he suggested.

Andrew shrugged. “I can’t imagine where. There are guests in basically every area of this hotel and no one has called about a leaking ceiling. Unless it was something in the basement.”

“We should go check.”

The two men scrambled to the basement, but as cold and neglected as it was, there were no signs of water damage anywhere. Just a lot of dust and noise from the systems that were housed down there.

“I’m stumped,” Andrew admitted, throwing his hands in the air.

“It has to be somewhere in the building. None of the other buildings or lodges have complained about issues with their water, right?”

The other man skimmed the list in his hands. “Nope, just this one.”

“Are there any places that guests and employees normally wouldn’t go during the day? The lobby’s fine, the children’s center is fine...wait, what about the ballroom?” Kristoff snapped his fingers.

“Oh sh*t, we should check the ballroom,” Andrew agreed. “No one goes in there unless they’re having some kind of an event.”

“I bet that’s where we’re going to find our problem.”

They raced back up to the first floor and passed the front desk to the corner of the hotel that housed the ballroom. Andrew searched through his massive ring of keys before locating the one that unlocked the doors. 

“Holy f*ck,” Kristoff gasped, his eyes widening at the site in front of him. 

The entire room was destroyed. The ceilings had caved as a result of the massive amount of water that had pooled from the burst pipe. Nearly everything in the room had been destroyed from either the water damage or from the impact of the broken pieces of ceiling landing on it. The walls were moist, and there was a considerable amount of water remaining on the floor. 

“How the hell did no one hear this?!” Andrew bellowed.

“This...is bad,” Kristoff said, shaking his head. “This is thousands of dollars worth of damage.”

“I need to get Bonnie on the phone,” Andrew said suddenly, walking away from the scene.

Kristoff continued to stare in the meantime; the room was significantly damaged. First and foremost, the pipes would have to be replaced - immediately. They were already going to be spending a large amount of money for the repairs, and they definitely couldn’t afford to lose the income that guests would bring in by occupying the rooms in that building. They’d have to drain the water that pooled on the floor, rip out the carpet and gut the walls, throw away all of the destroyed tables and chairs. 

When Andrew came back a few minutes later, he was not happy. “Bonnie is on her way and she’s having a cow.”

“Can you blame her? This is a nightmare.”

“I need to see if I can get any of the other guys in today. They’re going to be p*ssed.”

“I’m here and I’m p*ssed,” Kristoff scoffed. “I knew I should’ve called out today.”

“Good thing you didn’t because I would’ve had to haul your a*s in anyway.”

“Yeah, right. Zach calls out once a week and no one ever does anything about it. The rest of us are forced to pick up his slack all the time - if I called out once, it wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Trust me, Zach isn’t going to be employed here for much longer.”

Bonnie finally arrived a moment later with a panicked look on her face and interrupted their conversation. “What the h*ll happened?”

“See for yourself, boss,” Andrew answered, motioning to the entrance to the ballroom.

Bonnie peered inside before staggering back and raising her hands to her face. “Oh my god.”

“The damage is severe, Bonnie. The repairs are going to be time-consuming, and you’ll have to postpone any events that they were planning on holding here,” Andrew spoke up. “Most importantly, the guests in this building have to be relocated until we can replace the pipes.”

Bonnie nodded, and for the first time that Kristoff had ever observed, she was totally speechless. In all his years of working around her, he’d never seen her so quiet.

“I’m working on getting my other guys in here,” Andrew continued. “This is not going to be an easy fix.”

“Alright,” she said, before pointing at Kristoff. “You go tell the front desk to start working on getting the guests out of this building and then come back here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes once his back was turned; this was not his job. He wasn’t an errand boy. But because he wasn’t trying to lose his job, he begrudgingly followed her instructions. Once he arrived in the lobby, approached the first person he saw at the front desk, a brunette woman with thick black eyeliner who he recognized from high school.

“Hey, you need to -”

She raised a finger, but didn’t look in his direction. “Hold on, I’m helping my guest.”

“This is important.”

“Sir, you should get in line.”

He glanced over at the line - which was long, because it was checkout time, of course - before interrupting again. “I have orders from Bonnie -”

That seemed to catch her attention. “Let me get my manager out here.” 

“Thanks.”

A few moments later, the manager appeared from a door behind the front desk. “How can I help you?”

“I work in maintenance,” Kristoff explained. “Bonnie needed me to tell you that guests can’t stay in this building for a couple of days. A pipe burst and there won’t be any water in most, if not all, of the rooms.”

The manager's eyes widened. “O-okay. What about the restrooms on this floor? Or the restaurants and the bakery?”

“We’re not sure what the situation is with those areas of the hotel.”

She nodded. “Okay, well keep me posted. There are a lot of places on this floor that require the use of water.”

“Has anyone called to complain from any of those places?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we’ll keep our fingers crossed that they’re unaffected, but I’m sure Bonnie will be in touch soon.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a slight nod before turning around and walking back towards the ballroom; for the first time that day, someone had actually been appreciative and not downright condescending about the situation. He was just glad that she didn’t rip him a new one like all of the guests had earlier. 

“Good, you’re back,” Bonnie said once he finally made it back to the ballroom.

“Any updates?”

“I just made contact with the people in the event planning office,” Bonnie explained. “They’re coming down now. I need you to wait out here for them, so you could tell them about the damage. The annual ball is in three months and this was their venue.”

“I should probably start clearing stuff out of there,” he insisted, hoping to remind her that he was not her personal secretary or a professional bearer of bad news. “We can’t start gutting it out until the water is drained and all of the damaged furniture is removed.”

“You need to stay right here,” Bonnie said snidely, placing a hand on his shoulder before walking away.

“Is she serious?” he wondered aloud, his mouth agape. He really was her errand boy, wasn’t he?

“Hey man, Scott and Dan are both on their way in now,” Andrew said, approaching from inside the ballroom. “Liam and Eli are outside doing snow removal. I’m trying to get in touch with a couple of the other guys, but some of them have to be in for the overnight shift. Management has to take pictures of the damage for insurance reasons before we can touch anything, but we should be able to start getting rid of the furniture later today.”

“I have to wait here and break the bad news to the event planners,” he responded bitterly. “Because I’m not the maintenance guy today, I’m her errand boy.”

Andrew shook his head. “She’s really pushing her luck. She should be the one to tell them since we warned her that the pipes would need to be replaced a long time ago and she brushed it off.”

“You know, I had a gut feeling that today would suck. Wish that I could’ve been wrong.” 

“Should’ve checked the calendar, man. It’s Friday the thirteenth.”

He scoffed. “I’m not superstitious.”

Andrew shrugged before taking a few steps backwards. “I’m just saying.”

As soon as Andrew’s back was turned, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. It was quite the coincidence that this had all gone down on a day historically known for the bad luck it brought. He reminded himself that he didn’t believe in that stuff; this was a real life situation that had only happened because of sheer negligence from Bonnie and the other people who ran the hotel. If they had just listened from the start and had replaced the pipes when Andrew recommended they should, they wouldn’t even be in this mess. He didn’t necessarily believe in curses either, but at this point, he was convinced he’d done something wrong in life that warranted this misery. 

Until he spotted a gorgeous redhead he didn’t recognize being dragged in his direction by the half-a-head shorter lady he knew from around the hotel, and he was suddenly aware of a new sensation different from the misery and dread he was used to - a hopeful fluttering in the pit of his stomach.  

[izzyhunterscar]

Juuzou Suzuya X Ghoul!Reader

    You stood in front of the CCG, eyes full of mischief. 

        Walking right in you eyed the "Ghoul Detectors". You inwardly scoffed. Please, any ghoul could get through that if they know how to hide their genes, you wanted to make a scene to emphasize your entrance though.

        Turning to one of the worker you simply smiled and stood in your place.

        "Ma'am, please walk though. If you want to get in you have to go through here." His voice sounded bored.

        "Sorry but no. Could you possibly get Juuzou out here? I believe he is looking for me." You calmly denied his request and asked your own.

        "Ma'am, please walk though the gate."

        "I can't do that." You stated with a closed eye smile.

        "Why?" The worker asked exaspeatedly.

        "Cause I would set it off."  You smile widened, showing all your white teeth.

        The worked seemed stunned before activating lockdown mode by pressing a button near him. He swung out his quinque, alarms blaring and audible clicks of the building securing itself.

        Amon, Juuzou, and other members burst out of doors to the front to meet you. Weapons were at the ready as they stood surrounding the gates with you a distance away.

        "State your business ghoul. It was not wise for you to come here alone." Amon called out it you.

        "Who said I cam here alone?" You replied opening your eyes, wide smile still present.

        The investigators became alert, eyes darting for an ambush.

        You giggled, raising your hand to attempt to hide it. "I'm kidding silly! I just really wanted to say that! Didn't I sound so cool? I really am alone!" You then spotted the white haired male, clutching his scythe and smiling at you. "NO! OMG! This can't be real! JUUZOU! You came out here for me?!" You batted your eyelashes in a flirty manner and overdramatizized your gestures and words.

        Amon's eyes narrowed at you. "Ghoul, do not fool around. We have you surrounded and outnumbered, you are out of your league here."

        You gasped. "How dare you assume my species! I hate to break it to you but how would you know if I'm a ghoul? You really wouldn't know."

        "What do you mean?" Amon was getting tired of your games and simply played along to speed up the process.

        "Ahha! Now we are getting somewhere! You see Mr. Trigger finger over there got a little too excited and pressed the oh no ghoul button when I never walked through the detector thingy."

        "What." Everyone murmured and glared at the worke ryou pointed out.

        "She said she would set it off!" He attempted to defend himself.

        "I did say that, didn't I? Learn what a joke it!" You giggled again, worrying the few who were paying attention to your psych.

        "Prove it!" The worker challenged, attempting to redeem himself.

        "If I go through the gate thingy, I get to see Juuzou, right?" 

        Everyone looked at Juuzou, who excitedly swung his scythe and nodded maniaclly as well. "I'm ready for either outcome!"

        "They're both crazy..." The investigators thought to themselves.

        "I guess, just walk through the gate please."

        You sighed dramatically and made a big scene of hesitating. "You sure it's safe?" You smirked as you acted guilty.

        "Stop stalling, woman."

        "Oooh name change! Whatever though, you take the fun out of everything." You straightened your back and walked through the gate while looking at your nails boredly.

        The light turned green idicating human, causing some officers to sigh in reliege and to glare at the worker who panicked. "Don't waste time like that." They scolded him.

        You heard him getting reprimanded but you were running into the arms of Juuzou. He swung his scythe at you out of instinct, the swing was quick and swirled dust around. Gasps were heard from the workers and a worried Amon called out to him. Amon didn't know what to do if they had a dead civilian on their hands because of an officer. 

        You were not worried as you dodged around the swing and wrapped your arms around his neck, snuggling into his arms.

        Juuzou supported your weight when you clung onto him, your legs wrapping around him. "How did you dodge that!?" He excitedly whispered into your ear.

        "That's what years of boxing does for you." You murmured into his neck, breath tickling his throat.

        Unsure of what to do now, the stitched up man simply skipped back to the offices with you clung onto him like a koala.

        After the office disengaged from lockdown, everything seemed normal again at the office. Granted you were still there, refusing to let go of Juuzou.

        "So...what did you say your name was again?" A woman officer asked, standing next to Amon.

        "I didn't." You yawned and if it was possible you snuggled more into Juuzou, who assumed a sitting position in a spinny chair.

        "How do you know Juuzou?" The same woman pried again.

        "Stories." 

        "Oh, so do you like him?"

        Your head shot up from Juuzou's shoulder at the question. "Like him? Are you insane?"

        Unbeknonwst to everyone, Juuzou was slightly disappointed as you were the only person to show interest in him.

        "Sorry I didn't real-" The woman attempted to apologize.

        You cut her off. "I LOVE HIM! He is my everything! If I so much as hear a ghoul going after my love, I kill them! I made sure everyone knows that he is mine and HANDS OFF.." You continued to rambled about this was your territory and no one will every hurt Juuzou on your watch.

        The officers were once again alert at the tell tale signs that you were a ghoul. Juuzou was now sitting up with you still on his laps but his hands found their way to your ass, supporting you as you waved your arms around and rambled.

        "And how exactly do you kill these ghouls without a quinque?" Amon questioned, silver briefcase in his hand, his eyes narrowing at you once again.

        "Whoops, said too much!" You innocently curled your lips up to a small smile.

        "No! I would like to know too!" The white haired male pulled you close as an act of persuasion. 

        You let out a squeak of surprise at his forwardness and stuttered out. "I-I can't tell you! You'll hate me! You'll kill me! It's not my fault! I love you, Juuzou! Please don't hate me!" You sobbed out before abruptedly grabbing Juuzou's cheeks. You pulled him in, lips molding together. Juuzou worked over his shock and drifted his hands upwards tangling in your hair kissing back. You put years of longing and wanting in the kiss, your tongues battling.

        The officers were uncomfortable, to say the least, and some looked away with red stained cheeks.

        You finally broke apart, a string of saliva still connecting you two together. You pulled back and got off his lap, ready to make a run for it.

        At that moment, (He knew, he fucked up. XD jk) familar sirens ran throughout the office once again. The sound of an intercom came on, a voice following after. "This is not a drill! The Blackdogs have entered the building! Backup needed at the lobby entrance!" Investigators scrambled for their quinques and rushed out to aid their comrades, somehow still looking professional all the while. You saw the battle first hand, sneaking after them through the commotion. The CCG was losing, which surprised you. You saw Amon and Juuzou and that woman doing very well, but the others...not so much. Turns out a lot of the higher ranks were gone on long term missions or this was their day off.

        The ghouls were still low level, there just were a ton of them. You racked your brain as you swear you've heard the name Blackdogs before. Oh. It was those losers.

        One of the Blackdogs member had entered your grounds and had come after Juuzou right away. Juuzou had already finished him off, but you noticed the numbers that followed that small ghoul. You were quick to take care of it and beat some information out of one ghoul, while sending another ghoul with your message to leave your territory. 

        This pissed you off as you specifically told them to leave or you would rip them to shreds only to watch their limbs grow back and repeat. You growled and yelled out.

        "STOP YOU FILTHY DOGS! WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO STEP INTO MY TERRITORY? TO TRY AND HURT MY JUUZOU!" Your eyes turned black and your irises shrunk to red. Your kagune crawled out of your back, eight spider like appendages swung around from your back. Your hair grew longer and string like and dyed a pure white. You disappeared for a second, before reappearing in front of one small group of ghouls, your kagune each found a target and stabbed into their hearts. After your kagunes went through, the ends encompassed them completely and squished them into a flesh ball.

        Looks of realization came from both sides. The SSS+ rated ghoul Spider Queen, sports a eight eyed mask and long white silky string like hair. With eight leg like kagunes that act as offense, defense, and arms and legs as well. They were long with a black base color, a glowing white highlight in each. 

        You hissed out. "Who is your leader? Or was the leader such a coward to fall behind the group~" You saw a ghoul close to on of the entrances they blew in, he was creeping back, kagune not out but eyes a black red. "Found you~" Your crawled over there in a spider like manner with your Kagune. You were quick and took up a large amount of space when you rose yourself up with your kagune. You picked him up with one of your spider like appendages and brought him to eye level, since you were raised up by some of your "legs". 

        You patted his orange flat hair and spat in his face. "You chose the wrong territory to invade. Did I not warn you the first time you came after my love and dirtied my city with your face? You are dead meat." You then did what you had done to the other ghouls unlucky enough to stand in your way and compressed him into a flesh ball. Your left hand reached for the flesh ball that had fallen to the floor and your took a large bite out of it, before swallowing the rest whole.

        The other ghouls had begin to retreat and you snatched a few more snacks on your way to the escape hole yourself. "Tell everyone of what transpired today, little ghouls, that is if I haven't eaten you yet!" The words slipped out before you realized what you implied. Any educated CCG investigator would know that ghoul cannibalizing other ghouls gave a rare chance that they could gain a special kagune, kakuja. They could make an educated guess that you had one since you never seemed to have any visible scratches from rubble or an attack, not that anyone could get close enough to attack you.

        You glanced at Juuzou with a sad smile, watching him process that he kissed a ghoul. "Bye, love.." You whispered to yourself before speeding off.

        The investigators were knocked out of their trance when you left, still processing that THE Spider Queen had infiltrated headquarters with no problem and then HELPED the CCG. 

        Juuzou was shook. (Jungshook xD)

        He was intrigued by you, but at the same time wanted to be the one who killed you. You were a ghoul after all. 

        You sat on the very top of a construction crane, feet dangling and eyes still black and red. You didn't stay long enough to find out what happened after the invasion.You saved your love and left. 

        This one sided love. How long will it last?

A/N

This has been sitting for a while on paper. I had written about 2/3 of it on paper and decided to finish it. I want to write a story about Juuzou X Reader, but never had the motivation so it's just a one shot or maybe twoshot if I decide to continue it and the readers like it. 

  I’ve always loved Juuzou so I wanted to do something dedicated to him. I know he would most likely kill MC since she is a ghoul, but I like to dream ;-;

Your fellow warrior,

Izzy

[everythingoesnk]

Good man

summary; you’re an angel (literally an angel) and the world needs you. what for? to babysit mclennon. spoiler: you cannot resist john.

word count; 3 248

disclaimers; i’m SO proud of this but give me feedback lol you just can’t imagine how much it helps and motivates to keep writing

warnings; cannot think of one.

********

Too many of yours had been killed. Many others were still held in custody, tortured for the sole purpose of unleashing a war your community had been avoiding.

The smartest decision would’ve been to end the nonsense and face the enemy head-on, but again, you were angels. Dialogue always came first.

You learned the lesson.

This last year you’d been training and developing physical skills that initially don’t belong to your committee. What you didn’t know was the irrefutable decision the Parliament imposed in one of their meetings that they later would communicate to the nation: put into practice, only if necessary, the fighting tactics that you acquired. Not here, but on Earth. Long story short, become guardians. A large number of people understand that as angels that’s what you are. They’re not wrong, in a way.

On a final note, the Parliament concluded that its best pupils would descend to protect humans from the vehemence of the Evil.

Each angel has two people assigned.

Yours are Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

//

18th of June 1967, 15:18 pm

“Today marks six months since we met, and on top of that, it’s my birthday. Have you bought me anything?” Paul inquired from the sofa, straightening his neck to get a better view of your face.

It was difficult with you staring out the window, scanning every inch of the street and skyline, never turning to show any interest in what he was saying.

Dropping his head backwards, he added quietly, “And nothing happened”

“Is that disappointment in your tone?” you asked impassively, still not turning.

“Disappointment is not the word”

“What’s the word then?”

Your eyes travelled to a different point. No longer on the clouds that ventured the signs of a storm but on your partner and one of the other three funky insects.

Matt was near the metal gate, keeping an eye on the vicinities and probably rolling his eyes at the fans’ screeches coming from behind the entry, crying for any sort of interaction with their idols.

Not far from there John was sitting on the hood of his car.

Something must have told him he was being watched because he put down the hand with the cigarette and looked up to the same window you were at almost instantly.

An uneasy feeling that you couldn’t quite describe expanded around your heart after his inquisitive stare settled on you.

Flustered, you looked coyly to the left and right, because maybe Paul shifted to your side and you didn’t notice.

That got a small laugh from John.

Paul wasn’t in the room anymore but on the bathroom taking a pee, you could hear him. Regaining your usual erect composure, your brows pinched in a frown.

John got off the hood and put out the cigarette on the sole of his shoe before heading towards the building, looking in your direction once more with hands in his pockets and a sinful smirk tickling his lips.

“No,” you told Paul, observing John until he couldn’t be seen no more.

He shot you a confused glance as he finished pulling up the zipper.

“Babe, be more specific”

“I didn’t buy you anything” you concretized, facing him, “but I’m here to save your life in case you need to be saved. And if the moment comes I will, I’m a good warrior”

Paul blushed. He flapped his hand at you.

“It was a joke”

“I hope you were joking too about ‘nothing’ happening. You should be grateful you weren’t in any danger just yet”

You swore you could boil an egg in his face.

//

18th June 1967, 15:39 pm

“We’ll be back before dinner” Matt informed, putting on a jacket.

“Do the wings break through the clothes when you… invoke them?” Ringo asked.

George and John didn’t make any witty remarks, wondering the same secretly.

You and Matt exchanged looks. He shrugged and you thought it wasn’t worth your time answering.

“We do not invoke them. They appear when we need them”

Ringo kept asking questions but you didn’t focus on them, after all he was Matt’s responsibility. He was taking them –George and Ringo– to pay a visit to their wives. Matt missed driving so they didn’t mind him taking the wheel.

In Paul’s case it was Linda and her guardian who dropped by every now and then.

Due to the first impression of them, you thought Paul and John would be more demanding, however, they didn’t bother you and mostly stuck to doing their own thing.

Paul was taking a nap in the room next door; John’s whereabouts were unknown. You had to find him for his safety.

Gliding down the corridor you bumped into him.

You folded your arms across the chest.

“Where were you?”

“A fan dodged security and was waiting for me in the lobby. We talked for a bit and snapped a picture”

“For the thousandth time,” you groaned, annoyance streaming through your body like lava, “do not speak to anyone if I’m not around! Why do you keep disobeying my instructions?”

“She looked regular” he justified.

You looked at him as you might a cockroach.

“Demons disguise themselves accurately to fool jerks like you” you spat out.

Pulling a theatrical painful face, he brought a hand down to hold on to his dick and testicles, simulating that your words kicked him just there.

“Lennon, do not make it harder than it needs to be. I didn’t choose to have to follow you around like a puppy”

“Alright, can you take a moment to try and understand how overwhelming the situation is for us as well?” he argued, putting on hold his reckless demeanour.

Rubbing your eyes you sighed, “Yes, I can, but—”

“Forgive me”

“I forgive you, but don’t do it again”

A tender grin formed on his face, content that you didn’t put up much of a fight.

“Before I got interrupted I was actually on my way to get you. I wanna show you something”

You rolled your eyes. He’s so random.

Back in the room, he went straight to the piano. After tuning it his eyes wandered to the empty space he had next to him on the bench, waiting for you to take it.

Your expression switched from curious to stupefied.

Following his command you sat down.

Your gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips and from lips to his fingers. He played so carefully and delicately in the beginning, introducing the prologue of his piece, that you lost yourself somewhere in the middle of it. Recalling the day you entered Heaven you shivered.

Music filled the air, hijacking every part of your mind.

The melody began to change, more macabre and haunting. It reminded you of everything beginning to fall apart, when the enemy showed no mercy and without guilt slayed the innocent.

You weren’t aware of how you were digging your fingernails in his leg, the shrieks of the victims ringing in your ear.

John stopped playing, placed his hand on top of yours and clasped it firmly, looking concerned.

You shook your head and instead walked away, needing space.

John squared his shoulders as he took a deep breath and sauntered up to you. Brows together, you shrank back.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” he said, respecting the distance.

You remained quiet, head buzzing.

He squinted at you and tilted his head.

“Talking about it might help you”

“Have you taken it on yourself to be my personal psychologist?”

He held your gaze. It was the pain talking, not you. He knew and he was going to be patient.

“It’s not your fault this is happening. Any of this”

“Stop”

“You need to hear it. You have this vast weight on your shoulders—”

“I could’ve done something!” you hollered, saturated with the remorse you’d been accumulating. You knew you weren’t responsible for the cataclysm. He didn’t… he didn’t understand. “Those monsters killed them in front of me! Marta, Norman, Charlie! I can still feel how my body jarred after witnessing every stab and poisoned bite. Blood was gushing out of their mouths and I did nothing!”

The image of you petifried watching them die and not being able to help repulsed you.

How could you have been so cruel?

John held his breath. That was what was torturing you.

“You aren’t responsible for their deaths”

“Aren’t I?” you fumed, the void in the middle of your heart widening. “You know nothing”

The bitterness in your voice made his nostrils flare.

Through his bones echoed the determination to cure your scars. However, he understood it wasn’t his job to heal you.

“And I’ll never get to apologize”

You could sense John’s question without him actually asking.

“Demons get to exist thanks to the souls they rip from their owners. The bodies vanished after that” you explained, feeling dizzy.

Throat dry, you brought a hand to your forehead.

Beneath your typical mask of coldness never would have John imagined you were battling against yourself.

It brought him back to when he felt like he could have prevented his mum from leaving the house, saving her life. He was seventeen. Seventeen, not three or four. He could have warned her about the insanity of driving under those conditions. The wind was brutal that day, and it rained cats and dogs. Instead, he kissed her cheek good-bye and went to his room.

He blamed himself too at first. It was a long and tormenting process, but he comprehended he wasn’t guilty. You’d get to that point eventually, he thought, you’d have only gotten yourself killed too if you’d have intervened.

The breeze that came through the window dried your tears and moved the hair away from your notable cheekbones. He attempted to reach out to you for the second time. You just stared at him, biting your quivering lower lip. He stood before you, eyes boring into your mournful ones.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you slowly against him. You sobbed into his chest as you snuggled closer for shelter.

John pressed his cheek onto the top of your head.

“It’s not your fault” he repeated, emotion palpable in his tone.

It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.

//

2nd of February 1968, 12:13 pm

Matt dug his elbow into your ribs.

“He fell for you,” he said with a huge smirk, and imitated your pose: hands laced behind the back, eyes closed and body toward the sun taking in its pleasant rays.

“Shouldn’t have” you muttered after a pause, forcing the letters out of your mouth.

“That card you keep playing of apathy is ridiculous”

“I’m not playing any apathy card”

“Pretending you have no feelings for John won’t make it easier tomorrow”

You blinked and turned to him. He opened his and fixed them on you.

“I’m simply prioritizing other things”

“What other things are those?”

He knew already.

He knew that the things you just claimed to prioritize over your damn feelings were nonexistent. Like always, he was right. You didn’t want to triple the suffering that implied separating from John by confessing.

War was over. Angels defeated the beasts and freed themselves and humanity; home awaited your kind.

“My dear (Y/N),” Matt laughed dreamily, “you have all the time in the world to wait for him. Find out if he will still love you then”

//

3th of February 1968, 18:21 pm

John lost track of the number of times he rehearsed the torrent of words he planned on telling you.

He raised his hand and put it in a fist. Up in the air, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to knock on the door. Explicit terms and a deep groan escaped his lips. He dropped it and inhaled deeply, heart pounding frantically.

When he thought he was ready to finally do it Paul emerged from the closest corner, sprinted and knocked four times, running afterwards to the room that George and Ringo shared before John could catch him. And he did try.

“Ay! You want a fuckin’ hole in your face, you punk?!” he banged on their door, getting angrier with their laughs.

He almost lost it when Ringo hummed ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’.

Nonplussed, you crossed your arms and stood watching John from your spot after opening the door.

Just like before, his sensor did not fail him. He stopped his actions shortly and whirled around. Reddening abruptly, for a second he was sure his face was on fire.

You cleared your throat.

“Well?”

Cautiously, his brain stuttering, he glided the necessary steps to be in front of you.

He opened his mouth but didn’t get to say anything because Matt appeared from behind you.

“Who is—”

Immediately after seeing John his eyes widened.

“Oh God! I’m sorry! Were you- Oh my God, I’m sorry! Shit, go on” he gasped, and literally hurried inside.

That only aggravated the layer of crimson sprayed in John’s complexion.

You wanted to laugh but didn’t, obviously he was there to make the first move. You flashed him a small smile for support. He smiled at you too in return.

“Follow me”

Imperceptible in his voice, he succeeded in hiding elsewhere he feared rejection.

You raised an eyebrow teasingly. He frowned then chuckled in realization.

“Please?”

You giggled, which sounded way too girly for your liking, and took his hand in yours.

John led the way to the rooftop of the hotel.

Garlands of white and pink roses decorated the space, and since the sun was setting, you got to see how the orangy golden lights ghosted over John’s skin which made him look not handsome but celestial. At the distance, a trail of a plain crossed the horizon. You admired the view for a few more seconds and then drifted your eyes back to him.

The kindness and love reflected in his felt as warm as a kiss on the forehead of your favourite person in the world.

“I have to be quick, you don’t have much time”

He wasn’t wrong. You had to leave soon.

“Here, take this” he handed you a paper folded in half. “Open it when you’re there”

You averted the gaze towards the sheet and nodded. His eyes desperately searched yours again. Every second counted.

“I love you” he blurted out, a bizarre combination of panic and hope evident on his face. Like a child who just confessed that he broke granny’s vase, praying not to be grounded. “And I really, really want to kiss you”

The longing in his request melted your heart.

When you were about to let him know that you wanted it too you felt it in your back. You felt the muscles pulling the skin, pushing to make their way through to the outside.

One moment they weren’t there the other your wings were now displayed broadly for him to see.

They raised themselves, ready for departure.

John’s mouth fell open.

Unable to stop staring at their grandiosity and splendour, heartbeat wildly pumping, he ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he said breathlessly.

With tears in your eyes, you cupped his head in your hands and laid your mouth on his mouth without prior notice.

In that very instant, right there, the world stopped spinning.

He moved his silky wet lips against yours, pressing you further in until there was no space in between when the saltiness of your teardrops mixed with the saliva.

Your wings started aching awfully by now, and you knew what that meant.

Not wanting to, you pulled back from the kiss, lips burning.

“No” he purred, holding you in place, fingers gripping so tight around your upper arms that the skin beneath them turned white.

“John, it’s time”

Brokenhearted, you withdrew fully after rubbing your noses in an affectionate eskimo kiss.

You nudged intimately his chin up with your thumb.

John didn’t want to miss the opportunity to absorb your dazzling beauty thus he forced his eyes open.

“Part of my heart will stay with you. Remain a good man, Lennon, and return it to me. I trust that we’ll meet again in due course”

3th February 1968, 23:33 pm

Excitement throbbed in you. Seating cross-legged, you created walls with your wings to avoid snoopers and unfolded the paper.

It was a piano score. At the bottom of it, written in his handwriting, was a small note:

“I changed the ending. Now it’s about finding peace and picking up your broken bits to build a stronger armour. You’re a fierce woman, (Y/N), but whenever that feeling tightens and saddens your heart, play this”

Tangled in a mix of joy and sorrow, you half smiled as a tear rolled down your cheek and chin, landing in John’s signature.

//

8th December 1980, 22:50 pm

Everyone fell silent.

You noticed that all of your fellow companions and friends had their gazes bonded to the same spot. Slowly, you turned to check what they were looking at, and you nearly passed out.

He rarely visited. Only when he had good reasons to.

Gait steady, knowing very well what he was doing, he gave a quick look around as he paced.

His eyes found you.

Saint Peter offered you a reassuring smile, causing everyone to snap their heads at you.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)”

You swallowed.

“Y-yes?” you sputtered.

“I believe you’ll want to see this”

Uncertain, you joined him, not before sending Matt a doubtful look.

In any case, all your questions were answered when you reached the Gates and saw who was waiting for you. His wings were even more impressive, glittering and elegant than anyone else’s.

He was touching their feathers, inspecting them.

You ran to embrace him. Off guard as you took him, his arms were trapped under yours, preventing him from being able to hug you back.

“You shouldn’t be here. What happened, John?” you said, a million thoughts rushing through your mind.

“(Y/N)…” Saint Peter warned.

Under no circumstances it was allowed to ask for the reason behind someone’s death nor tell yours. It was the rules; the subject was forbidden.

You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

Taking a couple of steps back, you looked up to him. John bored his eyes into yours, lips stretching into a dainty smile.

“Hello, love. I took great care of the piece of your heart that you borrowed me” he said, twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “The time has come, I can give it back”

“It was for you, dummy” you answered with a laugh, voice cracking.

He dropped his head shyly to the floor, smile growing larger.

You followed where his eyes were pointing at, only to see his bare toes scrunching into the delicacy and softness of the cloud, getting familiar with it.

“I’m sorry you’re here” you whispered, honestly horrified that he didn’t get the chance to grow old.

“I was never scared of dying,” he spoke, slowly raising his head, “because I knew I’d be with you”

Staring at each other, none spoke for a moment.

“I love you too, by the way,” you admitted, pink arising in your cheeks. “I realized after I left that I didn’t say it back”

John smirked. He caressed your face and you felt the butterflies in your tummy flutter.

Love danced in the brightness of his eyes.

“Show me Heaven, (Y/N)”

[cor-are-they-stars]

A Silver Lining

In nature, there is a constant struggle between those who seek the comfort of shadows and mists, and those who seek the brilliant light of the celestial heavens. It isn’t necessarily a battle of night and day, though often it is phrased as such. It is a great struggle that dapples the sky with lighting and clouds and gives personality to the great blue dome that serves us as a roof in our Earth home.

All this to say, Tsuki found it highly ironic that she, the moon kid, had to go head to head with a cloud boy.

Irony always seemed to find her.

She hadn’t really done any research on him; she hadn’t had the chance. Having had just arrived a few hours before on the train, fresh from Japan and her foster home with the Spellmans, she had been hoping she would be met by her sort of? sister at the station, but apparently this whole student versus student debacle had been happening. Welcome to Taiyuu, now go steal an orb and beat someone up while you’re at it.

Not that she was going to complain. She bounced from foot to foot, flexing her gloved hands and trying to ward off the bone deep tiredness that always found her around this time of the moon cycle, and especially after the long train ride. Her fingers tingled almost imperceptibly from constant erosion of waning crescent as she eyed him from one side of the lobby of the faux hotel that would serve as their arena the boy she would be fighting. All dark blue hair and wisps of fog, his floating on a cloud a few inches above the ground brought to mind images of old gods sitting contentedly upon clouds as they watched the world. She blinked her eyes a few rapid times, trying to flash herself into a higher functioning level. It was only mildly successful. That train had been irritatingly comfy. A sound like the hollow cry of a gong echoed across the fake city and alerted them to the match’s start. Before Tsuki could fully react, the boy scooped air into his hand. Thick grey tendrils of stormcloud gathered around his hand like hens gathering around a farmer sprinkling corn. Crackling and popping with electricity, the clouds turned on Tsuki with alarming speed and ferocity and shot towards her like great billowing bullets of the sky. Ah. So that was what “cloud quirk” had meant. Reacting on the instinct that had kept her alive for years, Tsuki dropped down behind a plush, impeccably white armchair. Lightning flickered briefly and with no break thunder roared in Tsuki’s ears as the clouds electrocuted the white chair. Well. Now she was awake. Head ringing, she made a snap decision and lept to her feet, grabbing a vase of plastic flowers from the small coffee table. The clouds flashed again, lightning spearing through her arm. A brief, awkward silence followed as the lightning passed through her highly see through arm harmlessly, as if it wasn’t even there, and scorching the wall. Kemuri-san looked mildly embarrassed and Tsuki grinned widely. She spread her arms, a few pebbles falling from the mouth of the vase and clinking on the floor. “Sorry, looks like I’m not all there today.” She vaulted over the chair, cackling and throwing a wide arc of pebbles and sad pretend flora as she dashed towards her opponent with her improvised weapon. As she swung at Kemuri-san, another crack sounded and the vase shattered in her translucent hands. The boy darted out of the way on his cloud, and Tsuki hit the ground with a roll, the scattered shattered pottery slicing open her cheek as she went over it. Getting back to her feet, Tsuki quietly marvelled over the boy’s excellent reaction time. If this was the kind of fighter this school boasted, she was proud to have gotten in. It was hard not to envy him. As she reoriented herself and prepared to charge him again, Tsuki noticed the boy’s gaze flicking toward the main feature of the room; a combination koi pond and fountain. And as her own eyes dissected the rippling patterns on the water, she saw what was in that fountain: a little orb, being cautiously nibbled by a large goldfish with an insatiable curiosity.

As if on a cue from an unseen director, the two dashed toward the water feature. Her legs were sure under her, even if her feet did sink nearly to the ankles in the floor. Tsuki had just started to pull ahead of the boy when she heard another crack and felt a searing heat on the small of her back as the lightning struck true. She stumbled and fell into the fountain with the fish. Cloud boy zipped past her and scooped the orb from the pond. Taking no time to gloat, he zipped to the stairwell to the first floor and freedom as if an invisible wind was pushing him. Tsuki’s body was abuzz, feeling like it was moments from vibrating apart. A drop of blood, brilliantly crimson against her fading out skin, billowed outward into the water to explore as she struggled to stand and shake off the paralyzing effect of the electricity. Now on her feet and buzzing more than ever, Tsuki’s focus sharpened. No way in heaven she was going to be beat on her first day by someone whose hero name might end up being Foghorn. Through the window, she could see Kemuri-san’s quick flight towards his goal line and her defeat.

Aw, heck no.

She sprinted toward the window, no plan in her mind but to stop his exodus.

Few things in life are more majestic than flight. A bird, wings outstretched as they glide. A cloud, meandering across the sky with the dignity of a monarch. An airplane, cutting a defiant path through the air as it carries lives to and fro.

A nearly invisible girl, dive bombing through a window yelling a battlecry.

Tsuki’s aim was near perfect. As she lept through the glass, fractures spread across its surface. It didn’t shatter, she wasn’t tangible enough for that. But a beautiful bullseye of cracks spread outward from her exit point. Her intangibility sent her flying right through him, a feeling that he would later compare to a convulsion and searing flash of dizzy confusion. Her gloved hands, unfaded like the rest of her clothing, wrapped around the orb as she hit the ground in a tuck-n-roll and came up on her feet again. With her newfound prize, Tsuki sprinted back down the sidewalk away from Kemuri-san, intent on the other end of the sidewalk where she was supposed to take the orb.

A cloud whooshed past her, dark gray tendrils and crackling lightning imminent as it positioned itself directly in her path, ready to intercept.

Uh, nope.

She took a detour, right into the hotel.

Running through the front door, she hurtled up the stairs to the lobby and up another and another, until she was on the fourth floor. Her footsteps made nary a sound on the knobby carpet as she ran at full speed toward an innocent cart of restocking towels. Tsuki dashed right through it, her slight tangibility managing to knock it over behind her. Not planned, but a pleasant bonus. She looked back to see Kemuri-san flying up the stairs and laughed triumphantly as he reached the impromptu barricade. That ought to slow him down.

He flew right over it.

Her laugh died on her lips and she refocused her energies on what currently mattered: getting away with the orb. Making a split second decision, she took a sharp left into a room and slammed the door behind her. Looking quickly to the side, she saw a small stack of papers.

From the hallway, Kemuri-san could see Tsuki's hand clip through the door holding a small sign that read "Do Not Disturb". She hooked it on the doorknob and retracted it through the wood. That ought to hold him. A small drop of blood from her vase-initiated wound dripped down her cheek, and she wiped it away. The red stain on her otherwise white glove was startling, and she paused a moment to admire it.

As the door flew open, Tsuki grabbed the first weapon she could think of. A pillow held defensively in front of herself, she assumed a stance that left her shielding the orb from Kemuri-san and his clouds. With a dismayed expression, she shook a hard-to-see finger at him.

"Didn't you read the sign?"

Kemuri-san let out a surprised bark of laughter, and Tsuki felt a tickle of satisfaction trace its way up her spine. The boy raised his hand, and a cloud flew towards her. The past few weeks of watching videos of baseball games to help her better understand the very American Spellmans gently took her hand and raised it in a batter's stance. With a solid whmpahf, she whacked Kemuri-san's cloud and also managed to clip the one that was keeping him aloft. The disturbance of the air dispersed the particles and Kemuri-san fell with a thump. In her few seconds of time, Tsuki threw her pillow at Kemuri-san, which he caught in surprise as he got to his feet. Tsuki grabbed the other plush pillow from the comforter-clad bed and brandished it. “Pillow fight. Me, you.”

Kemuri-san, finding absolutely no problem with this, came in swinging. She cackled in surprise and jumped away from the bed, wapping another cloud away. Kemuri-san’s pillow had an icy cloud wrapped around it, and every time their weapons connected Tsuki’s pillow grew colder. The slowly crystallizing and frostbitten pillow nipped at her fingers as she retreated from the onslaught of feather-stuffed cloth. Finding herself backed against the wall, Tsuki was caught off guard as a Kemuri-san got in a solid hit.

Apparently, he had forgotten her intangibility. She had too. The force was just enough to shove her through the wall, dropping the orb to the floor with a humble plasticky tmhp as she disappeared, pushed straight through the wall and into open air, four stories up.

Gravity refused to acknowledge her intangibility, and she dropped like a stone thrown into a lake, though she left far fewer ripples as she plummeted. From afar, she would’ve been hard to see. Merely a fast falling shimmer in the air. Air flew by her too fast to be breathed, and in the seconds of free fall fear became a good friend.

But then, like a quilt made of melancholy and discarded dandelions, a cloud wrapped around her and caught her in the air. Her brown eyes shot upwards and met the panicked blue of Kemuri-san’s. He was leaning precariously out the window, hand thrown towards her as a direction to the clouds. For a few moments she hung there, a dangling toy on a mobile. Her breath had abandoned her during the fall, but it slowly and sheepishly returned as the cloud slowly drifted back up toward the window.

Tsuki tumbled through the window frame, heart beating out a violent tattoo of fear against her head. She lay on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for her pulse to slow a little and thanking any and all gods who happened to be listening for solid ground. Kemuri-san looked breathless and terrified as his clouds slowly dispersed around Tsuki. “Are you okay? When you fell- I almost had a heart attack. I had no idea-”

Tsuki rolled over and got to her feet, pressing her hand against her chest. Her eyes darted to the corner, where the orb sat undisturbed. He hadn’t gone for it when she fell? Tsuki walked over and scooped it up, then turned back and offered it to Kemuri-san.

“Here.”

He had pulled her back in. Sent a cloud after her without a second thought for the orb or the competition they were in. He didn’t have to do that. Kemuri-san looked confused by her gesture, and she proffered it again.

“Take it. I, uh.” She circled a hand in the air, trying to find the words. “You didn’t have to help me. But you did. And, I appreciate that. It was just, well. Incredibly honorable. And sweet. I’m bad with words- just take it?” Kemuri-san’s expression was touched by understanding, but the concern wasn’t fully gone. He got to his feet as his clouds started to reform around him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Tsuki waved a hand dismissively. “I will be. I just need a minute. It’ll give you a headstart.”

This was apparently good enough for him, and he took the lightly pulsing orb. Tsuki watched him hurry from the room and listened to his footsteps tthpm tthpm down the carpeted stairs as she caught her breath and berated it for ever leaving. As soon as her lungs were ready and her eyes had stopped spinning from fear, she jumped to her feet. Taking only a moment to pull a new, tangible pair of gloves from her pocket and discard the faded old ones, she ran to the door, then thought for a second before screwing up her face in concentration. Like the floor had fallen out from under her, Tsuki suddenly dropped down and out of sight.

Tsuki could surmise it had been alarming when she suddenly dropped from the ceiling of the kitchen, because Kemuri-san nearly dropped the orb as he tripped backwards in surprise. Huh. Lucky she had ended up here. Grabbing some heating mitts and pulling them onto her feet like crappy last minute shoes, Tsuki roundhoused the orb out of Kemuri-san’s hands and into the empty, bone-dry sink. Ripping off the mitts before they could pick up on her intangibility and fade past usefulness, she grabbed the orb out of the sink with one of her kid-gloved hands. She ran right through the counter, falling to the floor as an electrified frying pan Kemuri-san had thrown through a storm cloud clipped her and knocked her to the ground.

Kemuri-san snatched the orb and booked it out as he had been doing before she got in his way. As the shock was smaller this time, Tsuki was able to stick her leg through the counter and kick the pan into his path in time to trip him and send him to the floor. She phased through the counter the rest of the way and grabbed the prize again, booking it out the door and into the elevator and slamming her fist into the “up” button. The doors opened and she hurried in, frantically mashing at the “Close Doors” and “Floor 20” buttons. Kemuri-san scrambled out of the kitchen and flew at full speed toward the elevator. “Hold the door!”

The sliding doors glided closed peacefully, just before the cloud boy could get in. Tsuki awkwardly enjoyed a few quiet minutes of silence as the box slowly moved upwards, a tinny tune droning mindlessly in the background in a vain attempt at music. It wasn’t Mozart, but it was catchy and Tsuki found herself humming it as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to swallow the acidic fear that was clutching at her heart. You’ll be out soon. You’ll be out soon. Hang in there. By the time the elevator arrived at the roof, her heart was a butterfly-quick mess and her breath was quick and short. She stumbled out of the confinement and into the open air.

Tsuki crouched next to the box that held the elevator and clutched the orb close to her chest with trembling arms as she fought back the rising panic. She had thought she could handle it, but the nagging sense of impending harm and tightness in her throat told her she couldn’t. A minute of slow breathing carefully calmed her heart rate and she got shakily to her feet. She was still competing. She needed to finish this.

Kemuri-san stepped onto the rooftop out of the shack-like stairwell, and everything was eerily quiet for a moment. Then a fist caught him in the jaw, sending him sprawling. Tsuki, standing to the side of the door with her arm still extended from the sucker punch, looked startled. She dropped the orb, and scurried over. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to hit that hard! I am so sorry, is anything broken?”

She set the orb down and took his face firmly in her hands, examining his jaw to make sure it wasn’t dislocated. Her check confirmed, to her relief, that he wouldn’t suffer anything more than some swelling and tenderness. She let the still stunned boy go and helped him to his feet. The boy’s clouds were a shocking sunset pink, wispy from his surprise and crackling slightly at the edges. Tsuki tried to brush one away and was zapped for her troubles. The blue eyed boy touched his jaw gingerly and winced.

“Sorry,” Tsuki repeated, massaging her fist nervously. “I didn’t think that would actually work. Usually, people figure that one out and dodge! What a terrible first impression this has been, huh? Anyway. Uh, sorry about that.” The boy grimaced. “I bit my tongue.” ”Are you good?” Tsuki shifted from foot to foot. “I mean, you want to keep going?” Clouds McGee shrugged, looking a touch embarrassed. “I mean, if you are?” Tsuki shrugged and charged him. One of his clouds shot at her, getting in her face and blinding her. She dropped into a slide, sinking partway into the ground as she did. Hooking her foot around his, she flew between his legs and pulled him down before rushing back toward the orb. She was nearly there when he grabbed her foot and dropped her again, crawling frantically for the orb. Tsuki rolled to her feet and ran past the struggling cloud boy. Scooping up the orb in her arms, she bolted away from her opponent and toward the edge of the roof. His clouds rushed after her, one once again obscuring her face and the other wrapping around her legs. Stumbling slightly, Tsuki waved the cloud away from her face.

And found herself teetering on the edge of the rooftop. Tsuki glanced back at the charging, stony-faced boy, and made a decision. She had already faced fear of spaces- why not falling as well? Shuffling back slightly, she saluted him. “Thanks for the lift earlier. But I’m going down this time.”

And she stepped backward.

Orb cradled close to her chest, this time the falling felt more like flying. Wind rushed past her like a busy pedestrian, and the windows were a spinning film reel as she went down, down, down. She was little more than a shimmering thought with an orb in her arms as she went down… down…

CNRPK She hit the pavement solidly, arm absorbing most of the blow. Her intangibility helped, but not quite as much as she might’ve hoped. Her arm was definitely broken, and her heart was doing its panicked-best to escape her chest. Tsuki struggled to her feet, gingerly cradling the orb in the crook of her elbow and stumbling slightly in the washing wave of fear and exhilaration. She looked up, up towards the top of the building. There was the boy, staring down at her with alarm. 

Tsuki smiled shakily. And stepped back over the finish line. @taiyuu-high-oct

[haddonfieldproject]

<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.2.3 HALLOWEEN NIGHT/NOVEMBER 1st 2:10 AM

Haddonfield, Illinois

As the Tate family continued eastward through Missouri in the rain, Officer J.T. Swain pulled his police cruiser into the parking lot of the Warren County Sherrif's Office. Swain jerked the hood of his rain slicker up, took a long and shaking breath, and braced himself for the deluge from above as he gripped his door handle. He quickly exited, shutting the door with his hip, and sprinted toward the doors, kicking up large splashes as he sloshed through the puddles in the parking lot---a parking lot that had been empty a few hours before when Samantha Nguyen had entered it.

It was now full.

His fellow officer, and friend, Greg Mullenix, met him at the front entrance, and held the door open for him as he stepped inside. “Where the hell have you been man?”

Swain threw his hood back, “I had to escort the Tramer's from the police station to the park.”

Mullenix winced as he opened the glass door on the inside annex.

“It was horrible,” Swain continued, “that boy's mom kept crying and crying, and I had to hold an umbrella over her while they ID'd their son.”

Mullenix put a hand on his friend's back. “I'm sorry man.

“What did I miss?” Swain asked as they headed through the lobby, passed the plastic chairs, and to the right of the front counter with it's frosted glass window...still shut. They could hear Officer Williams and another voice, a female voice, talking away from behind the glass. The phone still rang incessantly.

“It's a shit show.” Mullenix replied, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and tapping it to the little white square beside the large metal door that read: AUTHORIZED PERSONELL ONLY. His little plastic keycard inside reacted to the pad and a light at the top of the square went from red to green. He jerked the door open.

A cacophany of voices hit them immediately. The first door on the left gave way to a large conference room. The overlapping conversations were emanating from there. Six or seven Officers sat about the large mahogany table and about the same number stood in various places around the room. As Officer Mullenix and Officer Swain entered the doorway, they were bumped from behind by two other men. Deputy Sheriff Ben Meeker had exited his office from across the hall and pushed through the crowd. He was holding a manilla file folder in his hand. Another man, with a receding hairline and smart black and white business attire, followed him.

“Feds?” J.T. Mouthed to Mullenix as they moved to get out of the way of the two men.

Greg shrugged.

“Alright everyone!” Meeker rose his voice to a level that could be heard over the other conversation. “Everyone shut up!”

The conversations ceased.

“So as you know, Sheriff Brackett is of course in the hospital with his daughter so all operations has been handed over to me.”

He looked around the room, took a deep breath and then said, “Look---I know tonight has been,” he stopped for a moment, looking down at the desk, trying to fight the urge to get emotional. “Well,” he continued, “let's just say it, tonight's been really shitty. I know and you know we're stretched to the breaking point right now as it is, but US Marshals have something else we need to pay attention to, so this is Deputy McGrath out of the Springfield outfit, I need you to give him your full attention.”

The room was dead quiet, save for a solitary cough from the back corner of the room. Meeker switched places with the man who had come in with him. He cleared his throat and when he spoke, a sharp New England accent came through,

“Hello,” he said, pausing for a moment, thinking about what to say. “Deputy Meeker here has been telling me about the clusterfuck of a night you guys have had,” he looked around the room at the tired faces of the officers, “and I want you to know that the last thing I want to do is add to the little shitstorm you guys got going on in this little town tonight, but I'm afraid I'm gonna have to.”

Meeker handed the file folder to the officer next to him, a fat, snow white young looking kid with pink cheeks and frosty blonde curls all over his head. The kid's name was Kip Kinnerly, but all the other guys called him “Doughboy.”

“Kip, look at this and then pass it.”

“Yes sir.” Doughboy replied curtly as he took the folder.

Meeker raised his voice. “I want everyone to take a good look at this!”

The man in the suit cleared his throat again. “As he told you, I am Deputy Mark McGrath from US Marshals, and as most of you have no doubt already heard, we have been hunting two extremely dangerous persons and we believe they may have just arrived in your back yard, that is, in the general area of Warren County.”

“Are you fucking serious?” An Officer who stood in the corner of the room spat. “Are you talking about those two shits from Mississippi?”

“Let's watch the language Spaulding.” Meeker snapped.

“It's alright Sherrif Meeker,” McGrath smiled. “Two little shits are exactly what they are. Their names are Lloyd and Lee Chumway of Biloxi Mississippi. And we are requesting---hell we are begging—for your assistance so we can nab these sonsabitches and at least give y'all a silver lining to this terrible night.”

“Oh fuck.” Officer Malcom Donald breathed as he looked into the file folder. “I thought I'd seen enough of this kind of shit tonight.”

The photograph of the Chumway brothers had reached Mullenix and Swain. They had already seen their faces on the television the days before. Hell, all of America had.

“Someone snap pics of that with their cellphone and text it out to everyone. I want everyone to have those two faces burned in their brains.” Meeker said.

“I got you boss.” Swain replied. He passed the picture back to Mullenix and began to dig in his pocket for his cellphone. “Here, hold this.”

“Who is this chick?” Spaulding asked, taking another pic from Doughboy and handing it to Officer Emrah Lagenbruner next to him who had just squeezed himself into the circle that was forming around the conference room. .

“Whoa,” The young African American officer said upon seeing the picture, “Gonna be a closed casket for sure.”

McGrath pointed to the photograph in his hand.

“Her name was Marina Madden, Lee Chumway's brother...he's the younger of the two. On Thursday afternoon, around 13:30 Central Time, these two upstanding citizens apparently brutally raped this woman, and then pummeled her with a bedside lamp.”

Mullenix took the picture from Lagenbrunner. The aforementioned Marina Madden was sprawled out on burgundy carpet, near the foot of a bed-frame, her lifeless eyes gazing upward at a ceiling that was out of view of the camera. Blood was congealed on the side of her head, a broken bedside lamp lay beside her, a dark spot in the carpet spread out from beside her head. The darkened puddle was flecked with bits of brain matter.

Mullenix passed the picture to Swain.

“Who's this?” Spaulding asked, holding up another picture before passing it to Lagenbruner. “Whoa, hello sexy!” Lagenbruner quipped again upon seeing the picture and passing it to Mullenix. It was a circa 1977 Olan Mills portrait of a woman, wearing a bright floral print dress, cat-eye tinted glasses and a large brown bee-hive hairdo in front of a tacky painted background with a sunset, trees, and ducks. Two young boys in white suits and red ties sat on her knee.

McGrath answered, “That is the mother of these two fine citizens. Melba Jean Chumway. Aparently they grew bored of Miss Madden and decided to drive over to their mommy's house. They beat her to death with a hammer.”

Lagenbruner whistled as he saw the next photo. “Good night,” he breathed as he passed it to his left.

Mullenix's stomach tightened as he saw it. Even though she was face down on a linoleum floor, you could tell it was the same woman. Her dress was different, but an equally as offensive floral print. Her bee-hive was gray now, and a different, more modern pair of glasses lay broken beside her. The side of her head was split open, and old darkened blood was pooled on the tile beside her. Large shoe tracks were printed in blood all around her as well. A blood soaked hammer lay just beyond her elbow.

For not the first time tonight, Mullenix was feeling nauseated. As the wave of sickness washed over him and through him, he closed his eyes, gulped and opened them again to receive another photo. The time, a pretty but a little chunky woman in a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt and camouflage pants was sitting atop a tractor. A field of snowy white cotton gleamed in the background. An older gentleman stood beside the tractor with a cigarette handing out of his mouth and a battered confederate battle-flag hat laying crooked on his head. He wore a simple blue shirt with the words TRUMP in bold white letters, along with the tag-line in red below it: Make America Great Again.

“I'm guessing this one is their engagement photo?” Swain tried to quip as he took the picture from Mullenix. It came out hollow as his voice cracked.

McGrath guestered to him. “They then left for Lloyd's apartment where Lloyd's unfortunate girlfriend Kelly Willis-Ross was living. They nearly decapitated her with a kitchen knife.”

Another grizzly crime photo was passed over. Poor Miss Willis-Ross lay in a bathtub, soaked red. Her head lay disjointed on her shoulders, her chin impossibly almost touching her right breast. Swain felt another surge in his stomach. He tried to focus on something in the picture so that he would appear to be looking at the slide, but not really looking at the carnage itself. His eyes fixed on a blue bottle which sat on the side of the tub next to the unfortunate carcass of Lloyd's now ex-girlfriend. HERBAL ESSENCES CONDITIONER. BLUE RASPBERRY.

“Jesus Christ,” Mullenix breathed.

Swain shot him a glance. His friend and partner's face was caught in a grimace.

“I know,” Swain whispered, “good luck sleeping tonight.”

“I don't think I'm ever going to sleep again,” Mullenix mumbled.

McGrath continued, as more horrific scenes of gore was paraded down the line.

“They then drove to their place of employment: a Papagayos Mexican Restaurant. These two star employees were on the clock for only 53 minutes before they murdered their boss and everyone in the store with kitchen knives. They have been on the run every since.”

“How do we know they're coming here?” Meeker asked, taking a seat on the edge of the conference table.

McGrath answered, “On Thursday night around 20:00, 911 operators at a Southern Star Gas Station near Oxford Mississippi were alerted to a robbery and homicide, and closed circuit cameras in the store captured the Chumway brothers. Two of the men they beat to death inside the store were concealed carry operators who were overwhelmed before they were able to withdraw their weapons. The Chumways stole the weapons and are now considered armed and dangerous....well...more dangerous.”

A few more cops trickled into the conference room from outside, looking pale and cold, shaking off the rain. McGrath paused as they took their place around the room, then continued, “Early Friday morning, around 02:30 we got a bead on to what direction they were heading in when 911 dispatch got word of a robbery at a Dixie Donuts outside Memphis Tennessee. Again surveillance at the location confirmed that the Chumway brothers were perpetrators of the crime. They were tracked to a strip club in the area and then to a motel, but apparently just missed the grasp of Memphis police. Their pursuit was also put off by trick or treating traffic, something I heard you guys had trouble with as well as you were tracking your own psychopath through the town.”

A few of the cops nodded and murmuring in agreement. Agent McGrath paused , rubbing his chin, his eyes clouded over, as if he were lost in his thoughts. After a moment he said, “We have every reason to assume they continued north, and would be entering this vicinity very soon if they continued at their assumed rate of speed. Unfortunately we have no idea what they could be driving now, they keep switching vehicles, but we just need you boys to keep an eye out.”

There was another cough and a few moments of heavy silence. Then Doughboy snapped to attention, his blue eyes wet, and barked: “Sir yes sir.”

The others officers followed suit, but all were less exuberant and most were merely mumbling. Deputy-Sheriff Meeker sat up from the edge of the table and approached Agent McGrath, and placing a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. McGrath gave a half smile, shooting a glance to Meeker and then back to the assembled officers. “Well okay then, we know what to look for, and we'll do our best to nab these sonsabitches.” Meeker extended his hand and McGrath took it.

Officer Mullenix yawned. Officer Ted Mitchum came in to the room with a large WANTED poster of the Chumway brothers. He lifted a stapler and stapled it to the wall next to the whiteboard at the far end of the conference room. Mullenix fixated on their face.

They look so normal, he thought, like just two simple men....two...really normal simple men.

NEXT>>

[prorevenge]

The neighborhood remembers. The neighborhood punishes.

This is a story I've been sitting on for a few years now, and having discovered r/prorevenge a couple months ago, I decided it's finally time to let the world know what happened to a sociopath who dared to cross The Neighborhood.

To set the stage, I used to live in a big but not huge city, lets call it palmville. I lived near the corner of a dense suburb nestled between overstuffed apartment buildings, a river that smelled like diesel when at low tide, and two busy highways. I was a minority in this neighborhood and I caught a lot of heat for it, people didn't really like white people there, but enough of our neighbors were accepting of us that aside from a few disagreements between families and the beatings that came with them I didn't feel like I was in danger when leaving my home. It was a rough neighborhood, but it was my home, and it protected its own.

The Community Center was like a temple, and...lets call her A.M. was the priestess. In our neighborhood she was respected like a living deity, and her calm and understanding reflected her status. I never once saw her behave without a strong moral code.

And the final piece to set this stage, our former landlord. Short asian lady in all the stereotypical ways, kind and sweet. Our house was above my parent's pay grade and she knew it. She went out of her way to find house repair and maintenance jobs for tenants that were having money problems. She'd pay them by taking chunks out of their rent, often times a bit larger than how much the work they did was worth. Looking back, that was probably illegal, but that's irrelevant because she died. The circumstances surrounding her death were suspect, but none of the suspects play a part in this story so there's no need to go into detail on it.

Her sons, who wanted nothing to do with real-estate, took over the business. They couldn't make heads or tails of how she managed to float books with so much red in them and began dumping properties, ours was on that list. I harbor no ill-will towards them, and still wish them the best, but the guy who bought the house...enter the sociopath and today's victim.

This guy wasted no time in making our lives hell. His first action was to raise the rent. Apparently when the account changed hands, he was allowed to update the rent to modern pricing. We'd been there for several years and were paying below market even from the onset, so this was a huge blow by itself. The second blow came when he said that the rent had to be ready, in full, on the first of every month, no partial payments, no work to reduce it, no extensions. Full rent on the first of the month or an eviction notice on the second. This was hemorrhaging our savings, but we were surviving for the moment.

Meanwhile, A.M. had lobbied hard for the city to co-fund a revival project to renovate the entire aging suburb and she succeeded. One street at a time had conga lines of work trucks almost every day and people were getting old leaky pipes replaced, sinkholes in yards patched, fences repaired, paint renewed, it was an amazing thing, and an enticing thing for The Sociopath.

Being at the corner of the neighborhood, our house was on the last street on the list, and Sociopath wanted us out so he could relist the house after renovation. He never said this directly, but multiple conversations made his intent clear even for 10 year old me.

Random inspections, overhyping of minor problems with the house, even so far as trying to bring us up on completely false animal abuse charges because our cat was attacked by what we believe was a raccoon and he tried to claim we did it, yeah, because a vet can't figure out the difference between knife wounds and a mauling.

We read the writing on the wall and began preparations to move. We decided to move in with my oldest brother in a place I'll call banjoland. Most of us had moved except my other brother, who stayed behind because he still had a lot of social ties in Palmville and his new job meant if he cut corners, he could keep paying sociopath's inflated bills.

Well, despite his best efforts, he came up $20 short one month and sociopath jumped on it. he had 30 days. We made the 400 mile trip from Banjoland to Palmville to get the rest of our stuff and I can't say as I approved of my brother's living conditions, but I guess that's beside the point. The month passed rather uneventfully, I guess Sociopath figured he'd won so there was no need to burn the gas to drive out and gloat.

The neighborhood had learned what was going on and that was the first time I'd ever been back in that neighborhood where I didn't get a single callout, a single glare, a single racist remark. Everybody behaved reverently, it was kind of disturbing in all honesty, I guess people in lower incomes all know what eviction means and felt like I was having a bad enough time already.

Well, 20 days later he says it's time to leave. We still had a week left, but it didn't matter, we didn't have the money to try fighting it with a lawyer. A.M. descended from the heavens and bought us a couple extra days, but it was evident he really really wanted us out, possibly because the work trucks were now one street away.

The last time I ever saw the house I grew up in, workmen were throwing my childhood possessions into a large bin when we supposedly still had three days left to leave. Everything that follows is a collection of information I got through the grapevine and phone calls with people present at the events.

Immediately, Sociopath moved into the house himself. Why you may ask? People who owned the homes they were living in were getting the full cost of renovations comped by the city. He figured that by moving in himself, he'd be able to get this house he bought at liquidation price renovated for free and flip it.

A.M. was having none of it.

She explained to him that at the time the revival project was approved, that house was a rental lot, and they can't change the budget now. She then explained to him that the partial cost coverage that had been approved for the lot was in our name, not his, and he wasn't eligible for partial cost comping either.

He'd have to pay every penny himself, and since the entire neighborhood was getting a facelift, he was required to at least renovate the exterior, otherwise she'd see the house condemned as an eyesore or dilapidated or whatever the legal term is. He went really cheap on the renovations, basically put in new carpets and a coat of paint, this would later come to bite him in the ass.

He then began trying to sell the house in earnest. The neighborhood remembered what he'd done. There were vandalisms when nobody was there, and loud noises from the neighbors when people were there to look the house over, and anytime a prospective buyer asked around, they got the full stinkeye from anybody they talked to. They made sure he simply couldn't get that house sold at market value.

After three months of this, he lowered the listing price. Then a month later he lowered it again and finally got a bite. A.M. personally made sure he had to file every. single. piece. of paperwork before it changed hands. Every single part of the house had to be inspected thoroughly.

And that's when Karma herself caught up with him. In his hasty and cheap renovations, he'd somehow damaged the pipes.

Black. Mold.

A.M. remembered how he'd treated us and she decided to pay him back in kind. I never heard how exactly she pulled it off, but she managed to delay him getting the news about the black mold being discovered for several days, long enough that by time he did get the news he didn't have enough time left to try getting it cleaned or make a last ditch effort to save the house.

The house was condemned days later.

In their final act, A.M. and members of the neighborhood filed every single complaint and injunction they could and arranged for him to be compelled by the city to demolish the house immediately. A cost he had to pay out of his own pocket.

He tried to destroy a family and broke laws just to make some quick cash, and instead was left fighting a year long legal battle and ended up losing thousands.

The neighborhood remembers. The neighborhood punishes.

(source) story by (/u/TanyaSapien)

[tacitusauxilium]

My Way Of Saying Thank You |Drabble for my close homie~|

A typical Saturday evening inside the Iwadotai dorm, and SEES had just returned from a very successful and smooth Tartarus run. Everyone had defeated a good amount of Shadows and even defeated a guardian Shadow on the floor they were on. Needless to say, it was a tough battle and when everyone seemed to be at a disadvantage, Fuuka had cast a move called Oracle, a blue ball of light from her Persona coming down to crash on the ground, on impact it would unleash a healing wave of energy which would heal all her injured comrades, not only that, but Oracle’s waves had manifested strongly and ended up knocking the Guardian Shadow right on its back, this allowing her team to finish it off with an All-Out Attack.

He had been switching Persona so much and he could feel himself getting more and more spent as the battle went on, as unique as his ability with the Wild Card was, whenever he would change Persona, it take a chunk of energy out of him each time, especially on the type of Persona he would summon, powerful ones being the most draining. So when her Oracle came down, it had been like a light sent down from the heavens to save them.  Yet again, Fuuka had yet again saved them from getting seriously hurt or worse. If it hadn’t been for Fuuka’s quick thinking, even if it was an act of desperation, she truly saved them, this would Amaze Minato, and make him hold Fuuka in even higher regard than he already did. On the way back home, everyone had expressed their gratitude for her. Fuuka always did her best it had only been over four months since The Priestess had joined but she was already showing how reliable and dependable she was. But, despite that, The fool didn’t think that was enough, no. He wanted to truly show his appreciation. So, when Sunday Morning came, for a change, Minato was actually up early for a change and much to his surprise, everyone else was out of the dorm besides Fuuka, but this was the perfect chance. The only reason he knew she was still here was because he had heard her little high  pitched sneeze from upstairs when he walked to the stairway leading downstairs., It sounded like she was sitting in the upstairs lobby near the girls rooms, likely on her laptop.

With a yawn, Minato left and took a train to the Iwadotai Strip mall to grab some things, then finally, after paying for it all, he grabbed the shopping bags and returned to the dorm. Thankfully, the trains weren’t so packed today so he had plenty of room, actually had a spot to sit, and the trains were all on time today so the trip only took him just over half an hour there and back. Upon his return as he walked through the door and much to his luck, everyone was still gone. Minato would walk up halfway the first plane of stairs, he could hear Fuuka watching a video. With a nod he went to the kitchen and put on an apron. Now when it came to cooking, Minato was average at best, but he still knew the basic idea of cooking, there was no way he was as good as Shinjiro-senpai, but he new some recipes, just not fancy ones. Mostly basics, but he knew what he was doing inside a kitchen at least.

Before he began, he washed his hands thoroughly then started to unbox the various types of fruit, rinsed them under the tap, laid them out on a cutting board and began to cut them evenly. This would take about fifteen minutes or so before he put a cover over them so they would remain fresh while he would tend to the other stuff.  He began to cook rice inside the rice cooker, while that would cook, he cracked some eggs.  The fool would continue cooking for about half an hour before everything was ready. Once that was finished, he walked to the stairs and called up. “Fuuka-chan! Can you down down here for a minute?"  Hearing the fools voice would cause Fuuka to perk up from her laptop. Curious to what he needed, she would put her laptop in sleep mode and closed it, gently setting it down on the coffee table in front of her. Rising up from her seat, she answered back. "U-Um I’ll be right there!"  She picked up her laptop and returned it to her room and set on her her table before exiting and closing the door behind her. The tealnette made her way to the second floor hallway and was immediately greeted with a smell of delicious food.

Huh? Is Shinjiro-senpai still here? I thought he went out with Akihiko-senpai somewhere? She thought to herself as she made her way down to the first floor lobby. Upon her arrival, she was surprised to see Minato waiting for her with his hands tucked away in his pockets like usual. He would greet he with a very small smile. "There you are, have a seat." 

She blinked a few times, she was pretty surprised, their leader was quite mysterious in his own unique way and although she knew he could cook, she wasn’t expecting to actually see it for herself.

On the table next to Minato was a small assortment of breakfast food that he had prepared:  

Fried Eggs topped with Dried-Omulet Furikake

A large bowl of freshly prepared fruit salad, big enough for them to get a bowl out of it each.

Miso soup with mushrooms, slice green onion, Wakame Seaweed all based with dashi broth.

Cooked White Rice wrapped delightfully in Ikura Salmon-roe 

Two empty places on the opposite ends of the table with a cup of freshly made Green Tea  beside them, the steam still seeping from it.

"M-Minato-kun? W-What’s all this for?” She would ask.

“Sit down and I’ll tell you.” He says as he pulls up a chair on the side opposite side across from her.

She would just nod, she could feel her cheeks just faintly starting to heat up as she pulled up the chair and sat down across from him.

 The fool would meet her gaze as soon a she sat down, his expression softening a bit as he saw the curiosity on her face.

“Fuuka-chan, you’ve been doing so much for us lately, ever since you joined us, you’ve been amazingly helpful, you’re support is flawless and I’m so glad you’re here with us.

The tealnette would feel her cheeks heat up, a pink blush appearing on her face, she was so taken back by his words, she wasn’t expecting to be greeted with all this praise, but she could feel her heart flutter a bit at his kind words. She put hands to her chest.

"I know we all thanked you last night, but, I wanted to show my personal appreciation. I’m not as good as Shinjiro-senpai. But, this is my way of saying. ‘Thanks for being here with us, and thanks for everything you’ve done to help me.

She could almost feel herself holding back tears, she was so moved by his kindness, despite not being an expert level chef like Shinjiro was, she could easily tell that Minato still knew what he was doing, it did smell lovely.

"M-Minato..” She would put a hand over her mouth, she didn’t know what to say. With a bright red face, she would shyly downcast her eyes, she couldn’t look at him, she was so flustered.

“Y-you didn’t have to do all this for me you know.” She would speak softly.

“I wanted to, so please, dig in. I made it for you.”

Mustering up the courage she could, she gave him a bright genuine smile and let out a small giggle.

“O-okay!” She put her hands together as did Minato.

A boy, made me breakfast.. I never thought something like this would ever happen to someone like me. I’m happy! He’s so sweet.

Another small giggle.

“Hm? Is something funny?” Minato asked.

She would just giggle and shake her head with a smile.

Minato didn’t really get it, but he wouldn’t question it besides, he had to admit, her giggles were cute.

“Thank you for the food!” She excitedly exclaimed as she began to build her plate.

“Thanks for the food!” Minato added also beginning to make his plate but, he let Fuuka finish making hers first since he knew he’d end up taking a lot more than he should, but he made enough extra in case she wanted seconds at all, but if not he could always give it to her for lunch

The two would begin to have a very pleasant breakfast together, Minato had done a good job, he even surprised himself, but he was just glad she enjoyed it. With the food all gone and their stomachs happy with them, Minato began to collect the plates.

“Thank you for the breakfast, it really was delicious.” She complimented, she really did like it, this made her wonder, what other surprises Minato had hidden away.

“No problem, it’s the least I could do."  He answers and he takes the plates to the kitchen sink and began to start washing, starting with the cooking equipment first as they were the largest to clean. As he did that, he felt Fuuka join his side at the kitchen sink, and she began to help wash dishes. The fool would glance over at her.

"Fuuka, you’re welcome to go ahead and relax. I can handle these." 

She would shake her head, a smile still across her delicate lips.

"I insist, you did make me a wonderful breakfast after all, it’s the least I can do.” She giggled, repeating the words he said to her. This making Minato chuckle a little and continued to clean dishes.

“But, it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly if I let you help you~” He playfully replied.

A giggle as she ran her index finger through the suds of the dish soap, she quickly faced him and poked his nose with her sub covered index finger leaving a bunch on his nose. He would cross his eyes a slightly to look at the bubbles on his nose before running his two fingers through some suds of his own before quickly putting some on her cheek leaving a suddy soapy handprint on her cheek, with a giggle Fuuka would run her whole hand through some soap suds and lathered it on his face giving him a long bubble beard. Minato would cross his eyes a little but to get a better look at it.  The two would look at each other, soap on their faces as Minato blew air from his mouth making all the bubbles go everywhere creating a small mess of water and soap on the counter. The two make eye contact, smile then both burst out laughing, it truly was a heartfelt moment, sharing the laughter with someone you cared about. Minato and Fuuka would clean the rest of the dishes after some playfulness and would spend a tender moment together before everyone else returned.