#apparently its speak now week over here idk

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field XIII

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there. oh, and manipulation (both of them lowkey)

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

series masterlist

You think you might die from this heat. The ice bag that Coryo brought you only lasted so long, especially when you shared it with the covey, which cut its window of efficacy in half. Both of you trailed behind everyone on the way to the lake, besides for Maude Ivory who found a very comfortable spot on Coryo's back. You should have thought to buy her some new shoes before the several-hour hike, but you didn't think that would be of consequence.

"How is Sejanus?" You ask, making conversation as you wipe the sweat from your brow. You'd like to gauge if Coryo knew anything more about your mutual friend's habit of hanging around with the wrong people.

"He's... yeah. He's fine." Coryo sighs, adjusting his hold on Maude Ivory's legs around his waist as he steps over a tree root.

"You don't sound so sure." You laugh, tilting your head up at him.

The bruise on your cheek wasn't red anymore, now healing into a yellowish hue that Coryo could hardly tear his eyes away from. He wishes you were still in the habit of wearing makeup every day, then he wouldn't have to stare down the result of his failure every time he looked at you. He shakes his head. "Well, I'll tell you about it later."

You just nod, looking down at the ground in front of you to make sure you don't trip. Now it was your turn to wish that the two of you could talk about what's going on between you. Whatever Sejanus is up to with Billy Taupe reminded you that even though you're far away from the chains of the Capitol, you still weren't entirely free. Even if now it was just free of the prying ears of a little blonde girl who loved to talk. "If you could change one thing about your routine right now, what would it be?" You ask, looking up at him again and squinting at the sun as it breaks through the trees above you.

Coryo draws his head back for a moment, confusion washing over his features at the seemingly random question. "Uh, everything. Next question."

"Ah-ah," You shake your head, hair falling into your face which you quickly pull back again. "Only one thing."

"Okay, fine." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Um... not sure, honestly. Maybe I'd have more success trapping those damn Mockingjays." He grumbles, looking up into the treeline.

You laugh, rubbing over the mostly healed scratches on your arms. "Nothing yet, huh?" Up until the point that you forgave him, you had gone out every night for almost a week, having learned a better system for opening the traps that didn't result in them cutting up your arms with their claws. Not so much as a thank you from the birds that apparently could speak, until you had started to thank yourself every time you reached around the side of the traps to open the metal, just so they would echo it back to you. You knew it was crazy, but it had become a fun semblance of a normal routine.

"Not one. Hardly any Jabberjays either, we think someone was setting them free in the night, they were easier to trap at first." He replies, smiling at you despite his frustrations about it. He couldn't wait until they could catch enough for Dr. Kay so he could start shooting them instead. "Rebels, most likely."

"That's annoying." You laugh, trying to hide the nervousness in your tone. "Why would they care about some birds?" It was a stupid question to pose, to poke holes in his only theory when it didn't already point back to you.

"They're hardly more than animals themselves." He grumbles, shrugging. "No, actually, I'd probably spend more time with you, if I could." He changes his answer and effectively, the topic as well. At this, Maude Ivory lifts her head from his shoulder.

"Are you guys in love?" She asks, turning her head so she can look at you now.

"Oh, no." Your cheeks burn as you laugh, shaking your head. "It's complicated big kid business, Maude Ivory."

"That's enough." Coryo chuckles nervously, spinning her on his hip and carefully putting her down. "Go bother the others."

The girl giggles, walking backward in front of you with her shoes in her hand. "It's why, I love you, you're as pure as the driven-" She starts to sing a song you were writing with Lucy Gray, knowingly taunting you, but you're quick to cut her off.

"Hey! Don't!" You laugh quickly, pretending to push her forward so she'll run along. "They've got some thin walls in that house..." You chuckle quietly, avoiding his gaze as you watch her run up ahead.

After a few moments of silence, Coryo speaks again. "What about you? What would you change?"

"Can I be uncreative and say the same thing as you?" You ask, cheeks still red.

"Sure." He nods slightly, a small smile on his face.

"Great, because those birds are starting to get on my nerves." You joke, bumping your shoulder against his arm.

He smiles, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I hate you too."

"Oh, hush. You know I love you." You freeze up as soon as you say it, suddenly it holds a lot more weight to it than your typical friendly banter.

At that, Coryo drapes his arm over your shoulder with a satisfied smile, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"Can you tell me about Sejanus, now?" You ask, head placed on Coryo's lap as you lay on the dock. You had been out of the water for a little while, now, utilizing the sun to dry your wet hair and skin.

He looks back up to the cabin, seeing Lucy Gray and the rest of the covey scattered and picking plants or lying in the grass. "Uh, he just keeps sneaking off, and I found a good bit of money in his locker, but he told me he was broke so... I don't know what he's up to."

You sigh. "I've seen him hanging around Billy Taupe a lot. They're a sketchy crowd in the nicest of terms."

"Well, he is district. It doesn't surprise me that he'd associate with them." Coryo explains, distracted in a weak attempt at braiding a small section of your hair.

"He's gonna get himself killed." You mutter, eyes closed to block out the sun. You couldn't tell Coriolanus about how you ran into Sejanus a couple of weeks ago, knowing he would ask questions about why you were out at that time too. It's easier to lie to Sejanus than to him.

"It's not our problem if we stay out of it." Coryo tries to ease your mind.

"We can't just stand by and watch, though. It'll eat my conscience alive if something were to happen to him."

Coriolanus looks down at you, watching your calm expression form into something resembling worry. He chews on the inside of his cheek and nods to himself. He would have to do something, if Sejanus ended up getting in some kind of trouble, the guilt of knowing without acting will kill you. "Okay. I'll figure something out. I'll get him to keep his distance." He promises.

Days had passed since that interaction, and Coriolanus is crippled by the fear that he made a horrible mistake. He got the full story from Sejanus, and it was worse than he pictured.

You liked Sejanus, at least you acted like it when he was around. Coriolanus could always see that the district-born boy meant something to you, even if it was unclear based on the way you spoke about him when he wasn't present. Him running off into the woods with a bunch of derelect rebels was far from a viable option, Coriolanus wouldn't have it. He couldn't risk your reaction knowing that he told you he would do something to intervene.

He needed to talk to you. You were the only one he could trust to tell about the Capitol-bound recording he sent off of Sejanus' confession, or the news that his family had been kicked out of their apartment back home. He wasn't even sure he wanted to tell you. Coryo had been fighting this internal battle for what felt like ages, so maybe he could just include the basics, leave out his actions, and let you lift some of the tensions from his shoulders by telling him it would be okay. That it would all be over soon, and that you're proud of him for passing his exam. He could get the two of you out of this dump by the end of next week, and he couldn't get you away fast enough.

Unfortunately for him, when he finally arrived at the Hob on his night off you were already on stage with the Covey. You were laughing, dancing and spinning, occasionally joining Maude Ivory on her hip drum while Lucy Gray sang. The crowd loved you, and you loved the attention. He'd be lying to himself if he tried to say he didn't love watching you so happy, but the timing was inconvenient at best.

Coryo found his usual spot against the wall, sitting down next to Sejanus. He wasn't about to let him out of his sight, not anymore.

"Give it up for our friends in the band!" He smiles at Maude Ivory's excessive spirit as she holds her arms out to encourage applause before her eyes lock on him. Her face lights up more, somehow, and he greets it with a nod.

She turns to you while music is slowly tuning out, and gives a slight tug on the bottom of your new dress. It had been scuffed up in your fight with Ash, but you had cleaned it up nicely- hardly a stitch was out of place.

You look down at the girl, who just gives a slight nod in the direction of the wall Coryo was sat against. "He's here, you gotta sing it now!" Maude Ivory says, loud enough so you could hear but not enough to be picked up by the mic behind her.

You look very briefly over at Coryo, shaking your head at her as your cheeks turn rosy. "He's never gonna hear it." You say, leaning down to her level. "Who even says its about him, huh?"

"You can't trick me, Sage." She giggles, pointing at your nose.

"C'mon, lets do it!" Lucy Gray chimes in encouragingly as you stand back up. "I'll play for you. All you gotta do is sing."

You roll your eyes playfully, shaking your head again. "No, I-"

"Now, welcome back for her second performance with us, Sage! She's gonna take us over for a minute here. I promise, y'all are in for a real treat." You're interrupted by Maude Ivory making the announcement for you. Internally you cuss, plastering on a nervous smile.

"It's beautiful, you gotta relax." Lucy Gray says in your ear, already adjusting her hold on her guitar. "If I can sing a breakup song to the whole country, you can sing a love song just to the folks in this room. C'mon." She smiles, nodding for you to take the mic as Maude Ivory bows you in.

You'd played this song a bunch back at the Covey's home after Lucy Gray caught you humming the abstract tune of a lullaby your mother used to sing to get you to sleep when you were little. You didn't remember a single word, but the melody was enough for her to recreate and embellish it into one of their songs, to which she insisted you help her write the words for.

Coryo is leaning forward, elbows rested on his knees as he watches you. From what he knew, you weren't much of a singer. The redness evenly spreading across your cheeks and nose in time with the intro music was evidence enough of that.

"Sing for us, sweetheart!" Someone from the crowd calls out, which is matched with whistles that force Coryo to sit up to try and get a look at who the hell is yelling at you. His jaw is seized until he hears your voice echoing through the large room, drawing his gaze back to you on the stage.

"I've taken some hits, so no wonder I'm wary. It's why I need you, you're as pure as the driven snow..."  You look over his way only briefly while you sing the first round of the chorus, trying not to let your voice catch from the nervousness still pumping through every inch of your body.

He knows it before you're finished, but the last word, the one you didn't let Maude Ivory get to on the way to the lake, makes his heart flip in his chest. The eye contact he made with you as you said his name was so heavy with everything you've ever wanted to say to one another but never had, and he completely swells with pride knowing that it was about him.

"Cold and clean, swirling over my skin..." The inclination, again, to shout to everyone that you were his girl was immense and overtaking. Just like the first time, but now he knew it for sure. He was positive."You cloak me, You soak right in, down to my heart."

By the time you render the final verse, his whole world has changed."It's why I trust you, you're as pure as the driven snow..."

I'm gonna marry her.

He's up as soon as the song is over, heading for the back of the stage as you take your bow. Your smile is wiped when you look up and he's no longer there, and neither is Sejanus. Worry pools in your insides as you scan the crowd, giving a rushed smile to Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory as you jump down. You hurry to the back of the stage, brow furrowed as you search for Coryo.

By some miracle, he's there. If you're not mistaken, he's got tears in his eyes as he strides up to you quickly, the stage lights leaking past the stage to illuminate him just enough. His pace and his intense expression only worry you more. "Is everything-" You ask frantically, only for your question to be disrupted by his actions.

Coryo takes a deep breath, and then, as soon as you're within reach, he cups your face in his hands and leans in. The world around you seems to fade as his lips meet yours in a passionate, long-awaited kiss.

Time stands still, and in that moment, everything falls into place. The worries that plagued him when he walked in completely dissolved as he felt your hair in between his fingers. When he finally pulls away, a small smile graces his face.

You're both breathing heavily as you stare at each other, and it's then that you realize he wasn't crying due to any kind of upset. He was crying because of you. With a smile so real that you could feel the sun on your back, even late at night in this dim building hundreds of miles from the comfort of your collective home.

"Coryo..." You say, smile fading as you regain perceptions of your real life.

"I know, and I have so much to tell you..." He grins, leaning down to kiss you again.

It was your turn to interrupt, pressing a hand to his chest to stop him in his tracks. Tracks you so desired to follow, wherever they may take you, but right now you had bigger concerns. "No, no it's... where is Sejanus?"

He pauses, and it's like the spell is broken as he straightens his posture, looking around as if Sejanus should be right there. "Uh... shit." He had completely forgotten about his friend as he fell under the trance of your voice, of the song you were singing to him.

You're quickly out from under his arms, walking back around the side of the stage to go look for your friend.

"Coryo-" You stop, and he's right on your heels as you turn back to him, pointing toward the back wall. "Go check the bar. Keep an eye out for Billy Taupe. Obviously. He's probably with him." You instruct and he nods to you quickly before beginning to push his way through all the drunk people in the crowd.

You try and scan the sea of faces, but you don't see Sejanus anywhere. The music the Covey is playing is loud, drowning out any hopes you had of being able to shout for the boy. You could follow Coryo in the search, but that would no doubt just waste time. You groan, pushing your hair back out of your face in frustration. You shouldn't have stopped Coryo from kissing you again, if Sejanus wants to be reckless you should just let him. The two of you already saved his life once, was that not enough for him?

You glance down the deserted hallway to your right, and then your feet are carrying you toward the back room in an instant. You turn the corner and push the sliding door open when you hear shouting coming from the other side. "What the fuck is going on?" You ask, eyes flitting between Sejanus, and the two other boys in the room, alongside a girl who who you vaguely recognize.

"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, turning back to you quickly.

"Y/N..." The girl mutters to herself, rolling the name around in her mind and on her tongue. You can see it in the way she's looking at you. You ignore it, eyes locked on your friend now.

"I told you to not get involved in things you shouldn't, didn't I? Didn't Coryo?" You scold him, gesturing to the door.

"It's not- I didn't know they were going to buy weapons! It's not what I wanted, they told me the money was only for supplies, that no one would get hurt!"

"These are supplies." Billy Taupe's friend, Spruce, replies.

"Why would you trust them!" You spit, pointing vaguely at the other people in the room.

"Listen, Princess-" Billy Taupe starts, a bitter taste to his tone just as the door slides open again. Coryo's frame is blocking your view of the boy in a second, tucking you carefully behind his back.

"Talk to me. Not her." He hisses, and you grab his arm. The feeling of his skin under your palms is comforting, warm, and tense in your grip. "What are you doing, guns, Sejanus?" He turns his attention to your classmate.

"Coriolanus, I didn't know this is what they would do, they lied to me-" Sejanus starts his pleads for help again on a separate set of ears.

Unsurprisingly, his response is almost identical to yours. "You thought they would be honest? What are you doing? There are peacekeepers right outside!"

"That's what I said." You mumble in exasperated agreement "Why did you even give them money at all?" You ask, hoping to get some answers.

"Sejanus wants to run off with these dimwits into the woods up north," Coryo explains to you.

"What?" You ask, shocked, looking past him at the boy you've known for years. The thought of never seeing him again pulls at your heartstrings in a way you're unfamiliar with. "You can't. Absolutely not."

"You're not my Ma, Y/N!" Sejanus spits.

"Wait, I know you." The girl cuts in, pointing at you. "You're that missing girl. From the Capitol. Y/N Y/L/N. My dad got a call about you!"

You freeze up at the accusation, biting your tongue as you look up at Coryo. A memory flashes in your mind, that's why you recognize her. She's the girl who Lucy Gray dropped a snake on in the reaping- the mayor's daughter. "Huh?" You ask, trying to look as confused as possible.

"Don't play dumb, we're past that." She scoffs and you just shake your head.

"Genuinely, don't know what you're talking about." You relax your posture, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Well," She sighs, shrugging sarcastically. "I'll go tell my dad where you are. Your family sure is missin' you..." She starts to take a few steps before the back exit and you clench your jaw at her smug smile. You want to rip the hair out of her head and throw her body in the lake to rot.

"Mayfair, you can't leave." Billy Taupe scolds her, grabbing her arm which she quickly yanks away.

"This is ridiculous and confusing, and you act like I don't see the way you still look at Lucy Gray! Why don't you take her with you instead, huh?"

"She is coming, isn't she?" Spruce asks, seeming just as confused as you in a completely opposite way.

"You were bringing Lucy Gray?!" Mayfair shouts, shaking her head at her (now presumably) ex-boyfriend.

"She said she wanted to come!" Billy Taupe defends and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Okay, so clearly there's some major communication issues in this gang of misfits you've found, Sejanus, so let's just go and leave them to it. It won't benefit you to be stuck in the wilderness with a bunch of starving idiots who will kill each other in a week if they get too lazy to hunt." You plead with him and he shakes his head at you.

"Y/N, wait-" Coryo says, looking back at you only briefly.

"Yeah, Capitol Princess is right. I'm out." Mayfair says, raising her hands in defeat and turning to leave. "You'll all hang for this!"

"This power trip you have about your father being the mayor pales in comparison to what my family has. You'll all be dead by the morning if you say a word." You tell her, voice calm as she freezes, turning to look back at you.

"She's all talk, she won't tell anyone." Billy Taupe tries to defend her from the tensions rising in the room. You were concerned about getting sent home, of course, but if she told about their plans to run, everyone in the room would be executed come the morning light.

"Oh, you think I'm scared of you, Sage? You think I won't tell? Ask Lucy Gray." She's right, Lucy Gray had told you about how this girl was responsible for the reaping being rigged to result in Lucy Gray's death in the games. What they never accounted for was her strength, her intelligence, and her having Coriolanus Snow and Y/N Y/L/N as mentors.

And how Lucy Gray became a victor, known initially to most of the Capitol for her similarities to you. Only, Lucy Gray wasn't bat shit crazy.

Coryo's mind is reeling at the threat made to you as the girl starts to walk away. Within a second, before you can even make a move to tackle her, he's reaching onto the table and grabbing one of the guns. He lines up quickly and squeezes the trigger, letting the bullet fly square into the center of the girl's back. His training had paid off sooner than he thought. Coriolanus wasn't about to have you caught, sent back to a home much worse than that safety hazard at the edge of the Seam where you're currently staying.

"Mayfair!" Billy Taupe is quickly at the girls side, but she's already dead. Sejanus is shaking, and you are fighting back the smile that threatens to form on your lips despite the stress of the moment. "What have you done?" He screams at your friend.

"She was gonna get us all killed!" You defend. "You should be thanking him! Trust me, she was nothing special."

"You've got something comin', Capitol boy." He says, shaking his head as he looks up at the two of you, hatred filling his eyes. "You think you're gonna blame me for this? That you'll never get caught?"

You resist the urge to just shrug, agreeing that no, probably not. Undeniably, your best move would be to blame him. "He was defending all of us, can you not get that through your thick skull?" You settle on, keeping your footing as level as possible as Coryo pulls you back closer to his side again.

"If I swing, for this you will with me!" He screams in anger, back on his feet and moving quickly towards you as Coryo shoves you back behind him, lining up again. He didn't have to shoot, though, because Spruce does. The boy's body flings into the wall to the left of you from the force of the impact, slumping against the floor.

Your heart is pounding as you look between your two friends. "Sejanus, are you alright?" You ask, trying to approach him as Coryo starts shouting orders at Spruce to get rid of the guns.

"Hey, he's fine." Coryo grabs your arm, pulling you close to him to look at you. "I'm gonna handle this. Get back out there and sing, play the violin, just do something, okay?"

You glance back at Sejanus again, who is clearly panicking so bad he looks like he might faint. "No, I'm not leaving you, and Sejanus-"

"Sejanus is fine." Coryo says again sternly, shaking your shoulders now as he looks into your eyes. "Go back out there. I will handle this. I'll find you soon." He promises, gently pushing you in the way of the door. "Go. Now."

You swallow the anxiety sitting uncomfortably in the back of your throat and nod, glancing only briefly at your friends before you leave, closing the door quickly behind you.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #thg series #hunger games #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coryo snow #president snow

[lewkwoodnco]

tis the damn season - Lockwood x Reader

A/N: estranged best friends to lovers trope my beloved!!! 😍 AHHH this is one of my fav fics I've written in a while. Poem below is Golden Boy by Cecil Miller, and the Spanish line is taken from a streetcar named desire by tennessee (idk how 2 spell) williams! this might be less proofread than normal + includes a few of my pre-infection hallucinations? lottt of angst, wc 5.1k!!

P.S. I think I'll be doing a part 2 to buy me presents! but not until a little later ahah and also the 12 days of fics are totally going to spill over hahah

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood stares out the kitchen window. Both inside and outside, there is a bleak stillness in the air that sinks in his bones like a plague. It's too cold and too early in the morning for anyone to be properly out and about. But the season always messed up his sleep schedule more than usual, and now that they had taken a break from their cases for the holidays, there was nothing to occupy his treacherous mind, and its return to taut requirings of Christmases past.

Slowly, the other residents of Portland Row start to stir. George grumbles about their spluttering heating system and having to plod through the snow to get the mail, and Lucy promptly falls asleep in the cup of tea she's just brewed for herself. They were all exhausted, and rightfully so, given that the holidays was prime time for people to start looking into properly clearing out ghosts to keep their homes warm and cheery.

He slips out just as George's complaints about the heater start ramping up, and his mind is so scattered that he forgets to put his coat on. It's a little more brisk than what was completely tolerable, strictly speaking, but it was only just for a minute. When he reaches the mailbox, he runs into Mr. and Mrs. L/N, old family friends who had helped him more than he deserved over the years. They made some polite conversation while he rifled through the bills and letters.

"Oh, Anthony, we wanted to invite you over to tea sometime this week. Y/N's home for the holidays."

His hand slips and an envelope slices his finger open. It was bound to happen, given his glum and careless mood, and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to suppress his cry of pain in front of them.

"Home...as in here? London?"

Ever since she had left for boarding school, there would always be some talk of her dropping by for Christmas every year. But the plans would never be fully solid, or some other pre-existing commitment would prevent her from making the trip. He was suddenly feeling oddly claustrophobic. He glanced up and down the street, as if expecting her to be hiding in some bushes.

Mrs. L/N seemed to pick up on his distraction, and her brow furrowed with concern.

"Of course London. Where's your coat, dearie? Aren't you feeling chilly?"

"...yes. Now that you mention it...perhaps it's best I head back inside."

He gave a stiff sort of wave and walked back, mind reeling. Eight years. Eight years since he last saw her. What the hell was he supposed to do if he saw her now? How was he supposed to feel?

Luckily, he doesn't get much time to panic because as soon as he walks in, he narrowly dodges a wrench being lobbed at his head. Apparently, eleven freezing days with improper heating was more than what George could bear. It's usually a rather quick fix, but maybe the comparatively more extreme frost this year had corrupted the system beyond Lockwood's capabilities, because two hours later he was still no closer to getting it fixed.

Some time later, there's a knock on the door. He yells for someone to get the door, but he's buried too deeply in the house for anyone to hear him. Grumbling, he dusts himself off and walks to the door himself, head buzzing with frustration. He's so preoccupied with what more he could possibly do to get the heating working again that he doesn't think to check the peephole first. So when he opens the door, he gets the wind knocked out of him.

"Anthony."

It was her; rosy-cheeked yet looking effortlessly warm. Her facial features had lengthened and rearranged themselves as compared to when he last saw her, but there was still something expensive to the twist of her mouth and the crinkles near her eyes.

"It's been so long."

Even her voice was rich, like honey. Now that she was standing in front of him, the stitch in his chest from the morning seemed much more familiar. It had been some seasonally grievious paste that had coated his lungs and stoppered his mouth that made him feel eerily weightless if he dwelled on it too much.

He didn't know what to do. Exchange pleasantries, or skip to the part where he slams the door in her face? Before he could decide, he hears some shuffling behind him, and almost instinctively opens the door wider.

"Y/N. These are my associates. George Karim, Lucy Carlyle...Y/N L/N."

"Right. Lockwood and Co., was it?"

The four of them glance at each other, exchanging fleeting smiles for a good half-minute, before George has the sense to usher everyone inside for a cup of tea.

The kettle's already on, and George hands out the cups of tea waring mittens, his glasses barely visible behind the scarf mummifying the lower half of his head. If she notices the cold in the house, she doesn't comment on it.

They make some polite small talk. She's pleasantly amiable and a perfectly gracious guest, and talks about her Christmas dinner plans. Lockwood is disinterested and surly and wants to talk about his fragmented sense of self. At one point, his responses start to become so clipped that he earns a poorly concealed kick from Lucy, accompanied by a stern look. Luckily, it doesn't seem as if she's noticed. She was looking at the white blanket of snow over their garden carefully, as if dismissing their presence.

"Your garden looks beautiful. I'd love to have a look around."

George and Lockwood exchanged a look. It was freezing outside, and the harsh temperatures were clearly not worth braving for the little of the flowerbeds they could see. George opened his mouth to tell her as much, in his own snide way, but he hesitated. Lockwood felt his heart sink.

The thing was, she had had a magnetic effect on most people ever since they were kids, a quality that made it difficult for any grown adult to refuse her or for any child to oppose her. It was the same reason why she was sitting in his house, drinking out of his teacups, eating his share of biscuits (George and Lucy had clearly conspired as soon as they picked up on her staying for tea). But he had been sure that if there was anyone who could pull away from this siren call of hers, it would be George. The very boy who was meaningfully looking at him, trying to express some uncommunicable panic.

"Er...Lockwood?"

And so, he ended up taking her out for a brief and awkwardly quiet stroll in their garden once she was done with her tea. They meandered through the garden path stiltedly, and every snow-dusted weed and sapling seemed to astound her. Still, she divided her attention sufficiently to continue the ocnversation.

"Homeowner and agency head at fifteen. Impressive."

"Thank you."

"I bet you're the media's darling."

He shrugs.

She turns to him, eyes generously pooling with faux concern.

"It can't have been easy."

It wasn't easy, not that she would know anything about it. He wants to be spiteful towards her, lash out at her. God knows she deserved it. But something holds him back.

"So...that was George. And Luce."

She jerked her head back in acknowledgement, but he could see the slight smile playing at her lips as she did so. He had forgotten how terribly exasperating she could be.

"What?"

She shook her head, but that only made her smile grow wider, and so she finally relented. There's a vulpine twist to her lips that Lockwood has no patience for. "Nothing. I'm sure they're lovely people, of course. But if I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you."

He shrugged. "I wanted to share a bit of my life now. They're just about all of it."

She hums pleasantly, stopping short in front of one of the flower beds. She bends down and picks up a freshly fallen violet, its deep indigo harsh and unrelenting against the fresh, pure snow, against the season of vacancy and death. She holds it up in front of Lockwood.

"Viola Odarata. Symbolises humility. Flores; flores para los muertos. Flores."

A part of him wants to sneer at her in painful irony. How arrogant of her to think she could waltz back into his life as she pleased.

"That what they teach you in your boarding school? Useless facts about violets?"

She shivers, even though the air is completely still with no breeze, and her lips part. Too late, he realises he's gone too far. Her smile slips a fraction, and she takes on an air that makes him feel obliged to apologise. He resists it, and for a moment he sees something flash in her eyes, but it's gone before he can place it.

"Forgive me, but you don't seem terribly happy."

"The Problem's raging worse than ever. Happy things don't come by easy these days."

"...I suppose. It wouldn't -" For the first time, Lockwood thinks she might be feeling nervous. Her humanity, manufactured or otherwise, draws him in despite himself. "It wouldn't have anything to do with me...would it?"

He takes in her carefully manicured appearance, her intentionally pieced together life made up of the dreams she worked towards and achieved. And all he had was a house that was more of a burden than a blessing on some days and this inchoate dread over a Problem whose end was nowhere in sight. But he doesn't know how to express this resentment, this jealousy.

"I'm alright if you're alright."

Sad, dispirited eyes look into each other, searching for the fulfilment they're sure the other has found. She speaks in a tight voice.

"It's okay with the both of us, then."

She suddenly reaches out, and gently holds his finger with the papercut with a firm but comforting pressure. His first instinct is to pull his hand back, but he doesn't, and as the long seconds pass, he feels increasingly vulnerable. The cut was no longer bleeding, and was even well on its way to healing over just fine, but it was irritated from where he had relentlessly picked at it.

"Looks fresh."

She traces the cut with her other hand, violet folded in her palm, with a feather-light touch. The surreality of the moment - of her standing inches from her, her breath tickling his fingertips, her warmth spreading through him - catches up to him and makes his breath hitch. It was unbearably intimate and made him feel like the exposed, raw wound he had been nursing for the eight years she had been gone. And how like her to return with pockets full of unfounded promise to stitch the tears in his skin.

And just as quickly, she lets go of his hand and steps back, and Lockwood feels as though cold air has been forced into his airways. She tucks the violet behind her ear, and drifts back inside. The tilt of her joints is so familiar that it stirs something in him. Something long gone, something he was gripping like a fist.

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

When they return, Lockwood excuses himself to his room for a bit of air, ignoring how closely George is watching him. He sits on his bed and takes a deep breath. His nightstand has a few miniature picture frames on it, and in one of them the picture's been flipped around. It's a picture of him and her, taken a few months before she left. It's how he remembered her before seeing her today. Sometimes, when the urge grew too great, he would tilt the frame under his nightlight, and make out the barest outline of their figures looped together on the other side of photograph.

He didn't know what to make of her departure, all those years ago. One day, they were swinging on tyres in her parents' garden, and the next day, she wasn't at school. But as the years churned on, the string tying his heart to hers stretched and tore a slow and painful death from him, out of the cavity she left, and he never felt quite the same again. And as they continued to age, the wound became old news and scabbed over what was once raw and paralysing, but a part of him always wanted to know why she did it, to be angry with her for being so callous.

And now she was back, pulling him under by the ankles, ripping the gash open viciously.

He didn't know how exactly to deal with it, after years of thinking of her adjacently, daring only to keep her in his peripheral vision, where he was kept safe. Maybe it was all part of a larger problem; the twitch in his hand and his recurring nightmare.

He's ten years old again, at a train station he's never been to, and likely one that doesn't exist. It's hard to see just about any discerning features, except for the massive train peeking through the fog in front of him. He looks to the right, and sees her strong fingers wrapped around a railing, her standing in the door of the train. He can't be sure of much, but he's certain she's looking at him. He stretches the moment as long as it will last, because it's all downhill from there.

There's a terrible groaning sound, and the train reluctantly starts to chug along, steadily gathering speed. He walks alongside it, gradually picking up his own pace, until he's nearly sprinting. All the while, she watches him with amused eyes, secure in her place on the train. He's panting, choking on the fog, eyes streaming. But if he can just reach her scarf whipping in the wind, the train will stop, and she'll step out, cool and gleaming and impervious to the cloud of dust surrounding her and-

He wakes with a start. He knows how it ends.

She slips through his fingers every time.

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

She stays for the rest of the day, and the four of them spend a cosy afternoon decorating their Christmas tree, carefully dodging the random mugs of hot chocolate littered across the room. While they were digging out the ornaments from the attic, she finds a box that he, evidently, had not tucked away deep enough.

"Remember these?" She holds up a flimsy, crumbling Santa Claus ornament made of construction paper. "We had so much fun making them."

He nods stiffly, subtly shifting the box towards a corner in the living room. It smarts his eyes to look at the hideous thing, as if its very sight was corrosive.

"Took me a while to find them, though. It must be a pain to dig them out every year."

He puts down the bauble he's hanging, and sighs. "I haven't...brought these out in a while."

Even her look of perplexity looks artificial. "Why not? Aren't there so many happy memories attached to these?" Her face falls ever so slightly. "Do memories of me not make you happy?"

Luckily, they're interrupted by Lucy placing a handful of miniature marshmallows into their hot chocolate. When she moves over to George, Lockwood wordlessly starts hanging their crafted ornaments, and she doesn't press him for an answer. When they're done, the tree looks a lot more crowded and chaotic than it normally does, similar to how Lockwood was feeling with her around. He looks at her, and isn't sure how he feels about the asymmetry of having her here.

Later, when she's about to leave, it starts snowing heavily, too heavily for her to walk home. So after a phone call with her parents, she decides to spend the night. Lockwood's in his bedroom when he hears a knock on his door. It's her, dressed in a spare set of Lucy's pajamas.

"I thought you'd be awake."

She wanted to know what he was doing, and what he was doing was wrapping some Christmas presents. Immediately, she obligingly offered to help, and she was too eager for him to outright refuse. Of course, he might have thought differently if he had known how abysmally little she knew about wrapping gifts. And so they stay up till the early hours of the morning, both of them trying equally hard to teach her the most basic of gift wrapping skills. As the night wore on, they got increasingly drunk on laughter over her heinously criminal attempts and Lockwood's limbs started to loosen up. At one point, he had given up entirely and placed his hands over hers, puppeteering the night's only decent gift wrapping while she smothered her laughter.

He doesn't remember much after that. When he next regains his consciousness, he's lying curled up next to her, with the late morning sun streaming through his windows. He watches her breathe, slow and steady, with a face so relaxed, amiable and familiar.

As her eyes start to flutter open, he panics and tries to look anywhere else, which isn't easy given how she's only inches away from him. They glance at each other, silently acknowledging their positions, and the silence hangs heavy in the air. He clears his throat awkwardly, trying to put as much space between them as he can with his arm wrapped under her. "When do you leave?"

She scrunches her forehead as she thinks. It's one of the few parts of her he instantly recognises and he gets caught off guard by a rush of affection, and a flash of an impulse to smooth out the wrinkles.

"Monday."

He pulls a face.

"We'd have the weekend together. Isn't that enough?"

They stay quiet, watching specks of dust float through the sunlight filtering through his partially drawn curtains. With how close they are to each other, they're not looking at each other's face, and it's unclear if she's asking him, or herself, or the dust they're watching. Was it enough?

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

Later that evening, Lucy wants to take a walk along some of the emptier roads in the snow. She takes their trip as her cue to leave but Lucy insists she come along, so she does. The four of them had cycled as far as they could, and when they reached the too-slippery parts of the road, they had dismounted and left their bicycles in a corner. Lucy and George were wandering around a bit ahead of them, while they slowly shuffled through the snow. She had picked up some newspapers on their way there, and was looking through them as they walked, taking particular interest in the odd article on Lockwood & Co.

"You've certainly had your fair share of media coverage."

"Along with a decent helping of frenzied media sensationalism, I suppose."

"My apologies. I forgot I was talking to the Anthony J. Lockwood of Lockwood & Co. Now, is the arson bit complimentary, or would I have to pay extra?"

She was teasing him, and it was irritating. There was a reticent air about him and after some politely delicate probing, which he had been too preoccupied to entertain, she had resorted to amusing herself. Toying with him like a figurine, the way she did all those years ago.

"You wear your grief so beautifully, Lockwood. Like...like jewels between your teeth..."

She pauses, flipping through the newspapers interestedly with inky fingertips, which flickered like shadows next to the soft white snow.

"...and you have such a winning smile. Golden boy." She laughs, and the sound feels like icicles pressing into his skull. "Golden boy," she trills, "you were a bit of a child. The world was having its way with you. You tried to...er, something...golden boy!"

She smiles at him lazily, expectantly, as if anticipating some kind of applause. But Lockwood is in no mood for her childish whimsies.

"I'm fine. I don't have any grief."

She frowns exaggeratedly. "'Course you do."

"I don't."

She mumbles, turning back to her newspaper. "Fine, then. Not like I'm the one holding onto...some kind of...ache."

He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes. How could anyone be this self-aware and yet completely oblivious? The strain on his self-restraint peaks and he buckles within himself.

"Why are you here, Y/N?"

She looks away from the snow. "Lucy said it'd be nice out here."

"No. I mean why are you here, in London? Here, at Portland Row?"

Her lips are pressed together, and there's something guarded in her eyes.

"I just...wanted to see how you were doing."

"Liar."

The word drops from his tongue in such an aggrieved manner with such vehemence that it makes her choke.

"How could you say something like that?"

He scoffs. "Please, let's not pretend you weren't dying to leave at the first chance. Not that you had the decency to tell me-"

"-I was ten!-"

"- having me go through the humiliating process of finding out on my own-"

"What do you want me to say, Lockwood? I'm sorry I left? I'm sorry you were alone? I'm sorry I was too selfish to give a damn about you?"

"-and you'll come back, choking on your silver spoon only to leave again and again and again until you're all alone-"

"You never wrote!"

"I didn't think you'd want me to!"

"I didn't know what I wanted!"

"Then what do you want?"

"YOU, you idiot!"

He stares at her, speechless.

"I was ten. And I was so foolish. How could I have thought of anything but you?"

With that, the last of her rosy, polished, alluring boarding-school airs fell apart. He looks at her and sees his own anger and yearning reflected back at him; anger and yearning he's hardly ready to face. Despite all their efforts to get away from the other, to move on, something between them held fast. Or perhaps it was that they were hopelessly, irrevocably intertwined.

"Of all the roads I could have travelled, you are at the end of every single one of them. Every single one of them, except the road I did travel. I'm here, Lockwood, because I thought I might have...I might have chosen wrong."

"So you think you can just stroll back now that it's convenient for you? I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, do you realise that?"

"What do you want me to do, Lockwood? You keep pushing me away. I feel like part of a past you're forever trying to run away from. So fine! I'll leave, then. I'll go back to the sorry hole I crawled out of, back to friends I don't care about, back to dreaming of the only person who's ever truly cared about me. Is that what you want?"

She doesn't wait for a response, and turns around and walks away from him.

"Y/N, come back."

She silently picks her bicycle out of the snow, dusting it off.

"You can't cycle in this."

Still ignoring his words ringing through the dead winter silence, she steadies herself and cautiously swings a leg over her bicycle. Lockwood starts to walk towards her.

"You'll fall. You'll hurt yourself. Y/N. Y/N!"

But she's already off, gliding soundlessly like a ghost through frigid air on icy roads.

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

He's already regretting his words by the time he reaches 35 Portland Row. When he first walks in, the house is so deathly quiet that he's convinced she's left. But her bicycle is thrown down in the garden and he knows she's too averse to the cold to walk home in the snow.

He walks slowly, his measure footsteps echoing on the wooden floors of the house, and he eventually finds her in the living room, sitting with her back to the door, staring at the drawn curtains. The fading evening glow spilling through the edges is streaked across her face and there's a soft crunching sound. As he comes closer, he sees the bowl of ice glinting in her lap, like fractured light, with her face as blank as a canvas.

"Have you gone completely mad? You'll fall sick."

She doesn't even flinch, as if she hadn't heard him. When she speaks, there's a dreamy quality to her typically strong and clear voice.

"I didn't want to come back. This city is nothing I want. I was always going to escape some day. And yet..." she trails off with glazed eyes, as if trying to look through some distant fog. "...and yet."

"You were right." The run back had left him mildly breathless, but was also exactly what he needed to get rid of the buzz in his head, giving way to some much-needed clarity. "About the...heartache. I was just sick of it. You're miles away. I love you in your sleep. I still reach the end of road alone. But I loved you all the while and...somehow that made the pain of leaving you worth it."

"I'm restless. I'm lost. I'm selfish." She swivels her head with an unnerving smoothness, grin wide and grotesque, ice glinting between her perfect teeth. "I'm so alone, Lockwood. Just like you said."

He doesn't know what to say. He walks towards her and picks up her bowl but her fingers close around his wrist like a vice. The gleam in her eye makes him want to pull his hand back. He's too old to play her games and lose.

"That's a bad habit."

"I'm a bad habit. One you can't seem to kick even after all these years: tell me, Anthony, why is that?"

"Y/N, stop. You'll spoil your teeth."

It only makes her grind her teeth even more tauntingly. It's an awful sound. "Good. Let them fall out, one by one. It's what I deserve. Maybe I'll finally learn my lesson."

Her grip on his sleeve lessens, but she doesn't let go. She grips the bowl with her other hand even tighter, as if suddenly terrified.

"Leave me be, Anthony. Leave me...to my vices...and violets and...violence."

He reads her face. He tries to figure her out, to read her like the open book she once was to him. When he doesn't leave, she shovels more ice into her mouth, uncomfortably clacking with her teeth, and continues.

"I was racing ahead...into some glorious sunset, towards some fantastic rainbow, at the end of which was some miraculous snowdrop and a wish to soothe my nomadic soul. I didn't have time for the boy with the sad eyes two streets down from me."

"I convinced myself that you resented my escape from the Problem. I was 15 with the bitter taste of lemongrass in my mouth and a stitch in my chest when I realised I spent all those years missing you. I couldn't run away from it, not truly. So I pretend. I pretend you don't hate me and I pretend I'm not an awful person and I pretend there's a chance you'd want me as much as I want you. I came home to tell you how terribly fond I was of you. It was only at your doorstep that I realised I had run out of places to hide."

"I don't have time for love. Nor the capacity for it. But I am tired of trying to outrun it."

She closed her eyes. Her voice was barely a croak. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. If I could...I'd wish away the past eight years of misery." She opened her eyes. "Some nights, I can pretend they never existed. But I can't wish your happiness into existence."

Lockwood somehow finds his voice. "I thought this was the life you wanted."

"It is Christmas, once again, and my heart is lonely as an island...once again. What part of this could I possibly want?"

He lets go of the bowl of ice and covers her limp, frozen hand with his own. She speaks in a low voice, barely stirring the dust in the room.

"I'll never forgive myself."

He sits down next to her, his feather-light lips pressed to her temple. She feels drained, and exhausted, as if the spirit that had driven her for so long was finally fatigued. Her breathing was uneven and her lungs felt lopsided. But what a blessing it was to finally fall in the one place she knew her landing would be soft.

"One day. One day, I'll..."

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

He pulls out a fresh violet from his coat, still damp from the morning dew.

"Call it even?"

She accepts the flower and gives him a sweet smile. He revels in this smallest of victories.

Their peaceful moment gets shattered by the deafening train horn, which unpleasantly reminds Lockwood of where they are.

She hesitates for a moment, but then extends her arm and holds his face. There's a troubled look on her face, like there's something indescribable she wished to communicate just at the tip of her tongue. But the compulsion passes, and she settles for a trembling brush of his cheekbone with her thumb.

"You're such a darling, Anthony. I don't care what any newspaper or lawsuit has to say about you. You'll always be a darling to me."

"Good, because soon enough you might just be the only one."

She grins, widely at first, but then it chips, and for once he can admit that the sight breaks his heart. She gives him a hug, and he holds her like she's one of the precious metals that adorn her jewellery.

"You'll come back, won't you?"

"Perhaps. See you another weekend."

When they break apart, she swiftly picks up her suitcase with white knuckles and marches to the carriage without looking back. The train horn blares for a final time. The doors shut, and the wheels groan to life. He searches for her face, and finds it, but the reflection of the train station lights hides her eyes. It's at this moment that a disconnected part of him realises he doesn't want to wait for another weekend. He wants her here, and he wants her now.

The train picks up speed, and Lockwood tries to match it. But he's not trying to run. He knows that won't work, it never does.

"Y/N!"

That gets the attention of most passengers, including her. This train accelerates much faster than in his dream, and he's got an awful stitch running down the side of his torso by now, but he's beyond caring at this point. When she sees that it's him yelling like a maniac, she presses her flushed face to the window, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Would you stay?"

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits @ahead-fullofdreams

#taylor swift #lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood imagine #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #tis the damn season #evermore #12 days of fics '23

[hesawifebeaterdanusethegun]

Part Four of my as yet untitled Dark City Doctor Schreber fic! Idk why I keep posting these but maybe some of you will enjoy them :3

Part One

Part Two

            It was hard to believe that Kat had only worked at Doctor Schreber’s office for about three weeks. It felt like she’d been there for years. Things were going well for her lately. She had a great new job, she could pay her rent and afford to eat on one paycheck, and she was even able to start paying down her debts. And her boss wasn’t a creep, she couldn’t forget about that. Finally working for someone who seemed to actually respect her as a person had changed her for the better, and it showed in her outlook.

            Before she’d gotten this job, life hadn’t always been kind to her. She had no family, no friends to speak of, in the City or anywhere else. She was on her own. Usually she liked it that way, being on her own was what she knew, just getting by without the help of anyone else was how she lived. She’d been proud of making it on her own for the time that she had, before that last job threw it all in the gutter.

            She had been walking absentmindedly for a few minutes, her mind wandering through these thoughts as easily as she wound through the streets of the City she’d grown up in. She was lost in though when a man stepped in front of her, blocking her way out of the alley she’d been walking down. He was tall, heavyset but not fat, wearing a long duster coat and sporting a black fedora on his head.

            “Where do you think you’re goin’ little lady?” He grinned, revealing a gold tooth on the right side of his mouth. He smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in several days and in that time had gone a bit overboard on the liquor, though these details she wouldn’t remember later to relay to the police, her panic sending her into fight or flight. Or freeze apparently because that’s all she’d done so far during this encounter. He slid behind her, an arm around her neck, and led her backwards into the shadow of the alley.

            “I was just gonna rob ya, but now I think I’ll have a little fun while I’m at it.” He chuckled as she felt the blade of a small knife at her throat. She panicked at this, slamming her body backward into the man, throwing him off balance and freeing herself from his grip. She turned, kicking him hard in the groin before running away as fast as she could (faster than she thought she could, for that matter). She heard him grunt and hit the ground as she ran. She hoped she’d left the bastard with at least a nasty bruise for his trouble, she’d realize later she’d also left him her bag as a consolation prize, but at least she’d gotten away safely.

She was closer to work than she was home, so she went there, it was the only place she could think of to go, hoping the Doctor would be there. She didn’t want to be alone right now. The elevator attendant eyed her strangely as he pulled the lever to take them to the third floor.

“Bit late for you to be here isn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She replied shortly before giving a nervous laugh. They’d arrived at the third floor. She got out of the car and thanked him.

“Well have a good night, little lady,” he said before disappearing into the floor.

His words sent a fresh wave of panic through her and she slid to the floor, back to the wall, while she attempted to catch her breath. The doctor must have heard the elevator door clanging on its way down, as he appeared at the door of his lab a moment later. He looked around, confused and a little worried as to who might be visiting him at this hour, expecting the worst.

Then he saw Kat, hunched over with her back against the wall. He rushed over to her, kneeling in front of her.

“Katherine, can you hear me?” a bit of panic tinged his voice as he spoke. He took her hands in his, they were cold. She was breathing rapidly and he felt as if he could hear her heart hammering. She was in shock. He gently helped her up and led her to the room where they’d conducted that first interview, helping her to sit down on the overstuffed leather couch and wrapping a blanket he’d found in his lab around her back. He pulled his chair up close and checked her pulse, it was slowing.

“Katherine, can you hear me?” he repeated after he’d situated her as comfortably as he could. She slowly looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time. She nodded.

“I can hear you,” she stated flatly, tiredly.

“Katherine, what happened?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, Doctor, I just… I didn’t know where else to go,” her voice was choked as if she were holding back a sob. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

Gently he coaxed the story of what happened from her, his anger growing over what she’d been through that night. He wouldn’t let this happen again. Once she’d calmed down he called the police. About a half hour later two officers finally showed up to take her account of what happened. He stayed with her while they questioned her, his hand on her shoulder and a protective eye on her.

After the ordeal was over and the police report filed, they found themselves alone again.

“I’m so sorry about this, Doctor, I’ll just-”

“Daniel.”

“I’m sorry?”             “You can call me Daniel, Katherine.”

“I guess this means you should call me Kat,” she responded with a small smile.

Part Four Section One

#dark city #doctor daniel schreber #kiefer sutherland #kieferposting #my writing

[onboardsorasora]

Idk where this came from lol. Late birthday Max post I guess? not edited sorry

Part 1 | Part 5

Part 6

Max hung up the phone with a large grin. He'd just spent the last hour chatting to his mother and sister after they called to wish him a happy birthday. At least they weren’t too sad of the last minute change of plans. Walking out of his sim room, he stilled at the empty living room. 

He expected to see Daniel curled in the couch with the cats as that seemed to be his regular state of being. Instead, he could see Jimmy standing on the top of their cat tree, watching something.

Walking around the corner, Max froze. Daniel was hurrying around the kitchen, muttering under his breath and counting on his fingers. Sassy watched him from atop the cupboards. Daniel was, well it looked like he was trying to cook or bake. Max wasn’t too sure. There was flour everywhere, coating the countertop and Daniel in a white dusting.

“Oh no.” Daniel muttered sadly, and then sniffed. And alarm bells went off in Max’s head. Daniel was sad, but why?

Rushing into the kitchen, Max gently pried the glass bowl out of Daniel’s shaking hands. Steadily, Max looked him over– checking to make sure he was alright.

“Max!” Daniel was surprised, he hastily wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. Somehow managing it even though Max held his hands.

“Daniel– is everything alright? Are you ok?” Max’s brow creased in concern.

“I–” Daniel cut himself off and looked away. He looked miserable. Max noted worriedly that a petal fell off of the rose.

“Daniel, please tell me what’s wrong. Are you hurt?” Max asked a little more frantically. Daniel was worrying him.

Daniel looked up with watery brown eyes, Max’s chest clenched, he never wanted to see such an expression on his face ever again. He would do anything to make it go away.

“It's your birthday.” Daniel whispered sadly. And Max froze, oh.

“Yes, its my birthday. Does that make you sad?” Max asked quietly.

“You had to change your plans because I’m here. You can’t see your Mama.” Daniel bit his lip, “I ruined your birthday. And I can’t even bake you like a cake. Mama taught me a recipe but I can’t remember it. I’m so silly.” Daniel sniffed pathetically and Max’s eyes widened. Oh

Daniel must have heard his phone call, but they were speaking Dutch. Does Daniel know Dutch?

Deciding not to worry about that, Max cupped Daniel’s flour smeared face. He swiped at the wetness below Daniel’s eye, he should never cry– it didn’t suit him at all.

“Daniel, no. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m happy you’re here.” He soothed, or at least tried to. “You can ask Sassy or Jimmy, they wouldn’t lie, right?” Max looked at his cats as if waiting for them to back him up.

Daniel nodded slightly, “cats never lie.” He sniffed. “But Max its your birthday.” He whispered, still waiting for something to happen apparently.

“It's my birthday and I’m happy you’re here, Daniel. My mother and Vic can come over this week and we can celebrate ok? I promise.” He held up his pinky between them, watching as Daniel’s eyes widened and he scrutinized Max’s face for lies.

With a sniff, Daniel hooked their pinkies together.

“Great! Now let's clean this up and we can order some cake and ice cream. Is that ok?” Max asked lightly, looking around to see what wasn’t covered by flour. He was taken aback when Daniel flung his arms around his neck, pressing his face into Max’s shoulder in a hug.

“I’m happy I’m here too Max. Happy Birthday.” Daniel whispered. Max could only wrap his arms around Daniel in return, even as his heart fluttered in his chest.

Part 7

#Why did I almost cry writing this tho?? #theyve taken on a life of their own. I'm a slave to the plot THEY choose #maxiel #max/daniel #enchanted au #disney princess dan

[unwillingpuckbunny]

HELLO! i'm bored of revising so here is a list of (some of the) accounts that i think the world should know about (i really should be revising biology because i have a really big test next week and have done 0 revision please someone shout at me so i'll actually revise coz my adhd really aint helping)

@luvhughes43: your boy can't read - made me legit laugh out loud, dad!Quinn series - adorable, crazy over you - mwah chefs kiss

@babydollmarauders: the media management series - need i say more. if you haven't read it yet what are you doing with your life go read it now, company - so cute, dress - it's taylor swift and jack hughes combined so obviously its good duh

@zeegshughes: these michigan summers - honestly one of the best things i've ever read i live for quinn and libby, her relationship with jack and luke is adorable and i'm always so exited when I see a new chapter (is that the right phrase idk i'm calling it a chapter)

@hockeyandhrsepwr: snap - so cute and the sibling dynamics are top tier

@bagopucks: she's taller - as a certified tall gal i appreciated this fic immensely, single reader series - adorable (can you tell i love a dad!nhl player fic) hudson is so sassy i love him and auston's desperation to be called dad is so heart wrenching just that need to be loved and accepted by this tiny human is portrayed so well i love it, disheveled ducking - so gutwrenchingly sad i had tears in my eyes reading it

@dmercer91 bug's sister series - so funny sibling dynamics on point what more can i say

@jackhues: some of my favourite series ever, mockingbird au - kinda sad but so cute quinn is the biggest sweetheart in this chefs kiss love it, peanut's world au - living for the sibling dynamics in this with auston and mat too it's peanuts world they're just living in it, buttercup's world au - omg i could never speak abt this au enough I love single dad sid in this he is such a girl dad its so cute someone give this man a child I can't wait to see sid as a dad irl

@letsgetrowdy43: my muse - i can't paint for shit but love this little fic i just love an insta edit

@starsandhughes: the penalty box series - one of the funniest things on this app I love it and everyone in the world should read it thank you and goodnight

ok that was a long list but I had things to say

pls send me new fics/accounts to check out bc I hate revising and apparently want to fail (I don't acc want to fail but I need something to do to destress (yeah e keep telling yourself that))

EDIT:

i just realised that there are no jamie fics in any that I recommended and that is a crime

i've read so many good jamie fics but apparently forgot abt them (?)

omg and no luke fics what is going on with me today

#jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #nj devils #anaheim ducks #vancouver canucks #sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins

[sweatandwoe]

can we get silco and reader but silco maybe losing reader? realizing he fucked up? idk just something angsty but maybe a fluffy end?

Part 2 to yesterday's Drabble

Silco x GN!Reader Warnings: Angst, Silco growing a brain, Fluff, suggestive

-

The silence is chilling. 

It has remained silent for two weeks. Surprisingly, easy to return to your old job, working under Sevika. Leading missions. If you were a little more reckless, who cared? 

You knew he didn’t.

Not once had he asked for you, sought you out since it had happened. No, he had holed himself up in his office and said nothing. His silence deafening in your ears and filling your blood with fire. 

A fire that had probably been the reason you were sitting at a booth, Ran beside you as they stitched up your arm. Too angry to notice you had been sliced until halfway home. “You should’ve gone to Singed, I’m shit with a needle.” 

“He went to collect his medicine today.” You hate that you can remember that, so easily. Not even having to think about it. You had remembered. 

There’s a sigh behind you before you hiss through your teeth at a tight stitch. “Sorry. You really can’t avoid him forever.” 

“I’ll avoid him as long as he’s avoiding me.” 

That gave a pause, another pierce of the needle. “One of you has to confront it. Or are you going to continue working here?” 

A fair point, one you answered by your own angry silence. It shouldn’t have to be you. He should be the one to come to you, to say something. Anything. Instead, you were left hung out to dry, and now saving up to buy a ticket to Ionia. Mercenary work was popular over there right now. 

You’d be alright. In time. Once you were away from everyone, it would be easier to forget. 

Silco you should be alright too. A hatred was growing for the small pit in your stomach that worried for him. 

You really needed to get that ticket to Ionia.  

The Last Drop door opens, and your heart stops in your chest when you glance up. Silco’s gaze meets your own, frozen for a moment. Standing at the door, an hour earlier than he usually was. Box of vials in one hand and… flowers were in his other one. 

Why did he have flowers?

Why was he handing the box to Sevika? 

Why the fuck was he making a bee-line to you? 

Apparently Ran knew to get the fuck out of dodge, apologizing quickly for leaving you half stitched and ducking out of the booth before Silco could give them a glance. The second he enters the space, flowers are thrown onto the table before he drags the curtain close. 

Then you’re both left just staring at each other. His gaze moved along your face, before flicking down to your arm. “They left the job half-finished, I see.” 

Now it’s your turn to be quiet; not even sure what to say, you just nod your head. A severe urge to look away from him rises, but when his gaze returns to your own, something pulls you to keep looking. Until he moves away and breaks it. 

The coat is removed and placed next to the flowers on the table. Without any preamble, he slides into Ran’s old spot and sits to work. 

“How did you get this?” 

You swallow, gaze flickering over the curtain. A blink, and he’s still working far more carefully than Ran had. It barely hurts as he stitches you with someone who has the knowledge of doing this a thousand times before. “Got into a fight. Dustin got a worse one.” 

A hum of acknowledgement, and you don’t need to see him to know his tongue is working in his cheek before he speaks. “It’s been quiet.” Without you here. 

He still won’t say it, and it gets you to start to turn. “Silco-”

“Wait.” His tone is pleading and stops your own more angry one in its tracks because you’ve never heard him say anything in that tone before. Silco does not plead.

At least you’ve never seen it before. 

The stitches finish and the supplies are set down before he turns you slowly. The Eye of Zaun looks panicked. Pale again, lips parting. It takes a moment, his lips twitching and cheeks finally gaining some color. “I am… bad at this.” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t be cheeky.” His tongue clicks before he grabs the flowers off of the table. He held them for a few seconds before all but shoving them towards you, speaking as you blink into petals. “I have realized I may have not been clear with my feelings. Or intentions.” 

“Intentions?” The flowers slip into your fingers, and you can’t stop a small flutter in your heart over the fact he had gotten you flowers. 

“Yes.” Fingers curl under your chin, drawing your gaze back to him. He swallows, and it’s almost like he can’t hold your gaze now. Nervous like a teenager rather than a middle-aged man. “I don’t wish to lose you. I want you by my side.” The fingers move up to cup your cheek. “As my partner.” 

You already know he doesn’t mean business partner, but still, you can’t stop the slight tremble in your bottom lip. “That means you do want me? Not just for-”

“Yes.” And then he’s pulling you to him until your head is tucked under his chin. Arms holding you to him. “I care about you. Quite a bit.” His voice is quiet, just for your ears, but it’s enough. “I like it when you play with my hair. When you kiss me good morning and goodnight. I like waking up to you and having you here. With me.” 

The apology is nonexistent. But, the admittance covers most of it and more. Enough to melt away the anger in your heart, for now. 

For now, you press your face into his neck and he seems to relax. You press a small kiss to his neck. “I care about you too.” You admit, far more easily than he could. Arms move lower, holding you loosely around your hips, as you press another kiss to his jaw. 

“Let me make it up to you. I owe you that much.” And then he starts, trying to set things right. “A dinner to Laurent’s, I think to start. Along with a new outfit, on my dime. Maybe a full day of shopping? Whatever you want to get-”

Lips placed onto his own get him to quiet down. A smile grows on your mouth, as you gaze up at him through your eyelashes, pulling your mouth away and enjoying the way he attempts to chase after it. “I’m sure you can make it up to me later? I have some ideas but they’re,” you tap your fingers along his shoulder before bringing your hands around them. ”Private ideas.”  

That earned you a far more confident smirk, as the hands on your hips yank you forward, while you laugh quietly. One he returns, with a gentle shake of his shoulders, his tone sounding more joyful than you had ever heard. 

“I’m all ears, Darling.” 

Requested Tags:

@htmlbitxh @dilfcoworshipper

#silco x reader #silco #arcane #daily drabble arcane

[akirameta84]

idk when or if ill finish this and ive had a habit of sharing my unfinished wip fics lately so heres the sequel to the werewolf au oneshot i wrote (and that i also shared the first part of months before i finished and posted it to ao3 lol)

id say its a bit under halfway done? idk. it follows directly after the last oneshot and may be confusing without it. and its an unfinished fic so you wont be missing anything if you just wait for it to eventually be finished and published (even if it might be a year rip)

but yeah. this is the first half or so wip of "Howling Harassment" sequel to the kubosai werewolf oneshot "Lycanthropic Liasons"

has not been edited or proofread obviously cause its not even done

its 5.3k words, and warning for vomiting mentions. if you want to skip the mini scene where kusuo is sick (he doesnt puke in the scene but talks about having done so) ive bolded the start and end of it. you wont be missing any plot details with it, but this wip preview does end shortly after it with just a paragraph so if you plan to skip that scene you can just stop reading at the first bolded part and be fine

enjoy i guess

also my italics didnt copy over so :shrug: place them where you think they go

Kusuo had been enjoying a very nice nap, relaxing peacefully and soaking in some warm sunshine, when the feeling of something wet dripping onto him slowly roused him from his slumber.

He blearily opened one eye but then immediately snapped both open when he caught sight of the tan wolf, shockingly with a normal looking chin, leaning over him and drooling all over his face. Recoiling and lurching to his paws in the same beat, he stumbled a good few meters away from Nendou, standing tensely in the grass.

They were right outside the makeshift and, honestly, poorly constructed hideout of Kaidou and Aren’s, and Kusuo had thought that if he took a nap outside he could both enjoy the sun on his fur and separate himself from Nendou, since the idiot would likely be enthralled by Kaidou and Aren attempting to play card games with paws.

Apparently Kusuo had been very very wrong. He sat down hard into the dirt and reached a back leg to scratch painfully at his head, like it would help get all the saliva off of him even though he knew it wouldn’t.

Nendou had been staring at him the whole time until a deep bark from the hideout entrance sounded, calling his attention. Aren’s deep purple and very furry but scarred head stuck out from the door made of blankets and glared at Nendou, having heard Kusuo’s mental distress. Nendou whimpered but strutted over to the entrance and headed inside.

In regards to the werewolf telepathy, since they were unsure if Nendou could hear them, attempting verbal communication without the ability to speak words was necessary to try and talk to the idiot who had also found himself lycanthropic by unknown means. At least they knew where he was now and Kusuo could fix any problems his disappearance has started to cause.

Kusuo was slightly worried as well that, due to the fact that he was missing all of the last week, Nendou couldn’t turn back like Kaidou and Aren had at first. Kusuo had been able to teach them by just instructing them through how he usually activated his shape-shifting, and it had thankfully done the trick.

He was still hoping that Nendou could hear their trains of thought even if they were blocked from his. He’d shown no signs of it, but this was Nendou. He could be hearing everything and not give a single clue.

Either way, it was still absolutely bizarre to have someone (Or up to three someones) reading his mind for a change, even if the fact that he didn’t have to bother with proper communication as much was pleasant.

‘It’s still bizarre to me that you’ve heard all of our thoughts up to now from when you met us, Kusuo.’

Yeah. That was fair. Kusuo lifted his head and gazed at the darkening sky that was many shades of orange and pink as the sun gradually lowered into the horizon. It was rather pretty and almost soothing to stare at. It’d been decently bright and blue when he’d gone to sleep, so he’d gotten a good few hours in.

That was good. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep once he went back home and dealt with what would be waiting for him. There was no way his brother had already gone from England to Japan in under twelve hours, even if their mom calling about limiter issues was fairly serious, but he’d still get harassed via television video call from his brother and either wait in dread for his brother to fly over or just teleport himself and get it over with.

Both sucked.

‘I think you’re over reacting. Surely your brother didn’t literally create something that turns people into werewolves. That sounds impossible. To be fair, so does being born an esper, but still.’

‘…B-but how else did it get…created?’

Kaidou was very bad at hiding his excitement at the concept of a mad scientist making something like lycanthropy, even if he posed his question as.

And also how he wondered if Kusuo’s brother could make him into a vampire instead, because when he watched a movie series called- ‘Hey stop stop sto-’

Kusuo snorted but obliged and cut that train of thought off, standing up and padding over to the hideout entrance.

Regardless, the answer was very much no to Kaidou, there really was no other potential source, and yes to Aren. Kuusuke was most certainly behind this and Kusuo was either going to make him fix it or commit fratricide.

‘…Can you…m-maybe-’

‘If he makes a cure I’m not letting you stay like this, Kaidou.’

Kusuo arrived at the blanket covering and stepped inside right on cue to see Kaidou’s best attempt at a canine frown and puppy eyes…the latter of which was quite a lot more effective in a literal dog form than it normally was for the boy seated on a pillow in the very corner of the hideout, front paws splayed over a bunch of cards on the carpeted ground in front of him.

He looked away before the eyes could take effect. He was getting far too soft and was not about to consider willingly keeping one of his friends a goddamn werewolf when he could reverse it.

When. Not if. Kusuo kept making sure he left no room for doubt in his mind. That way it would be easier to kill Kuusuke if he failed to make a totally guaranteed cure.

Aren was padding back over to the light blue wolf, a sulking Nendou in tow, and though Kusuo’s thoughts had already spelled out for the two of them that he was about to go home and get the confrontation or whatever over with, he still had one more pressing issue to attempt to solve beforehand.

‘Nendou,’ He projected outwards, staring at him as if it would help get his message across, taking a few more steps on the frankly uncomfortably textured carpet.

To his slight shock, the tan wolf spun his head around so quickly he feared Nendou would break his neck (A familiar sight, Nendou did that far too much, even if it had less of an impact without the…mildly disturbing human face), tongue lolling out of his mouth as he watched Kusuo expectantly.

Aren and Kaidou looked up, intrigued, their minds similarly surprised that Nendou could hear their minds just fine.

…Could he? There was a chance that had been Kusuo’s own inherent telepathy as it was hard to tell the two versions apart, unlike the ease at which he could separate the lycanthropic ability and his own shape-shifting.

If it was his own and the idiot couldn’t hear Kaidou or Aren that wasn’t that much of an issue. Kusuo was the one who needed to help him turn back, after all.

(Considering the fact that Nendou didn’t visibly react to any of Kusuo’s ambient thoughts about that, actually, Nendou was not connected to the werewolf telepathy. He can only hear projected thoughts from Kusuo’s. Kaidou seemed utterly fascinated by that, while Aren was just mildly annoyed at how it was so complicated. Kusuo was in agreement with his boyfriend, and not just because of that status).

Nendou’s head tilted after the good few moments of staring, and Kusuo realized he should probably elaborate on why he got his attention before he was licked or pounced on again.

‘Do you want me to show you how to turn back tomorrow?’

He almost offered to do it right now but remembered, bitterly, that they were all stuck like this for a good while longer thanks to the moon cycle.

To his surprise, Nendou responded by shaking his head no, slobber flailing from his tongue as he did so. He heard Kaidou yelp as a drop landing in his eye, according to his thoughts.

That was…not the expected or desired answer at all. Kusuo wished he could just ask why straight up, but he would just go through the options instead.

Aren had sat down facing the two of them, even though Nendou was still turned away from Kusuo and looking back with his head, face far too amused to be anything but smug.

‘I bet he’s going to already know how to-’

‘You’re jumping ahead in the narrative, shut up.’

‘…I’m what?’

Kusuo firmly decided to ignore him. Kaidou could probably use some help putting all the playing cards away, he not so subtly thought of but didn’t directly project as he looked over and saw the small wolf in question pushing around the cards with his paws to try and get them all in a small stack again.

Aren just rolled his eyes but turned away to assist, and Kusuo gave his attention back to the ever still and rapt Nendou.

Seriously, he kind of wished that Nendou had lost interest in their one-sided conversation during the decently sized breaks in it. That would be less creepy.

‘Are you saying no because you already know how?’ He asked next, using purely his own deductive reasoning and nothing else.

‘You are really something special, babe.’

Kusuo shifted in place, annoyed, as Nendou nodded. There was no bothering with asking why the fuck he had stayed like this a week when there wouldn’t be a reply. He just huffed out a breath of air and asked one last question.

‘Will you please turn back and be human again by tomorrow?’

Nendou unflinchingly nodded at the downright angry tone of Kusuo’s, finally spinning around fulling and raising a front paw up, curling it and uncurling it awkwardly.

Was that supposed to be a thumbs up? Probably. He could only guess that it was because the idiot tended to give so many of those normally.

Kusuo nodded to himself and walked away, putting as much space between him and Nendou as he could in the small hideout, ending up next to the other two slightly less idiotic wolves.

‘Slightly!? It’s more than just slightly!’

Aren just chortled.

‘Do you want help getting home before I go, Kaidou? I can teleport you and then make your family perceive you as human if they happen to see you before you’re able to change back. And, of course, make your disappearance today nonexistent.’

There was a worrying hesitation before Kaidou replied, his snout twisting awkwardly as if he were trying to bite at his lip, and he paused in gently nudging a few cards to the side and merging them with the growing stack. Kusuo used his telekinesis to grab them all and order them neatly into a stack, floating them straight into the box.

Kaidou blinked at him, startled but grateful, but refocused his mind quickly.

‘A-actually I want to. Uh…t-tell them. I don’t want to hide it forever and it would just be…easier. To tell them.’

Huh. Kusuo had heard Kaidou’s mind dance on that possibility, but it had been thought about so little that he hadn’t expected the boy to actually decide on that course of action in the end.

‘…I hope it goes well, then. Do you still want help getting home right now or will you wait?’

‘I’ll w-wait with Aren. Get some nerves out. And go home when we’re back.’

‘Very well.’

Kaidou and Aren had taken to keeping spare clothes in the hideout, so that plan would work just fine for them. Kusuo had no need, he could just teleport freely around those two since his secret wasn’t secret between them. And, in all honesty…it felt nice to have have a friend closer than Aiura or Toritsuka know, as well as someone even closer but not family.

But for now he also was definitely not telling any other friends. Not until he was ready to actually do it on his own terms for once.

Kusuo turned around and walked towards the exit of the hideout despite not needing to in order to head home, but it somehow felt more polite to leave this way and then teleport.

‘I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then.’

Kaidou and Aren seemed baffled that he’d said farewell which was rather fair since he never gave those or said hello much at all, but responded in kind themselves.

Before he could make it all the way out, though, footsteps sprinted towards him, and he didn’t have much time to react before Aren shoved his face against Kusuo’s, rubbing them together like he was a cat instead of a wolf.

Aren’s expression was far too innocent afterwards as he drew back and somehow grinned, and Kusuo rolled his eyes and turned away, keeping his body but most importantly his stupid tail with a mind of its own still as warmth bloomed in his chest, grateful his face couldn’t flush like this.

He continued walking moments after, only not doing something to be polite and reciprocate because he needed to leave and not because the prospect of doing so like this was embarrassing.

He briefly wanted to strangle Aren when he heard his mental chuckle at his denial.

As soon as he had fully crossed through the blanketed doorway, tail and all, Kusuo gathered his energy and teleported to his bedroom, a location so familiar he didn’t even need to conjure the image in his head to travel to it.

And, as soon as all four of his legs landed on his bedroom floor, his television turned on and his brother’s ugly face filled the screen, telepathy canceler adorning his long blonde hair, some of it covering his left eye and the rest of it in a ponytail, despite Kusuo being nowhere close enough to read his mind. He bared his teeth at the image and intentionally raised his hackles.

It took less than a second of being home for his brother to make an entrance.

Fifty six milliseconds, to be precise.

Kuusuke sniffled, feigning sadness as his tinny voice sounded through the speakers, “I can’t believe my own baby brother is so angry at me paying him a pseudo visit. How upsetting, after mom called me so worried about you and everything…”

Kusuo just sat on his floor and glared at the television, making eye contact not with Kuusuke’s image, but with the camera perched very visibly on top of the television.

His brother knew he’d be slaughtered if he had cameras permanently installed in Kusuo’s or their parent’s bedrooms. But he’d been barely spared when he added one to his TV that only activated when he was video calling, and the living and dining rooms got actual full-time cameras.

“Hmph, no response? Not even a rude comment?” His brother paused purposefully and smugly, “Oh, wait, you can’t respond! Without your telepathy, since even with my lovely canceler I’m still far out of range, you can’t speak like that.”

A teasing glint entered his brother’s visible eye as Kusuo continued to glare, unimpressed, “Or can you? Come on, can you speak, Kusuo? Speak? Like a good dog?”

He had to put physical effort into swallowing his growl, because that would have almost given Kuusuke exactly what he wanted. His bedroom sat in silence as they had an impromptu, or really, with his brother, expected competition to see who’s resolve gave first.

Kuusuke didn’t bother to try very hard, giving up with a shrug quickly because as much as he liked to make fun of his brother and attempt to win at every little thing, proper competition or not, they shared the same trait of impatience.

Kusuo’s patience was better overall, though. It had to be, growing up with his powers and all.

“I will say, it is a lot harder to decipher what you want to say like this. I’ve mastered your blank human expression, obviously, but I am very much not a canine person. Maybe I should have made werecats instead…”

Kusuo didn’t even bother to hide his growl that time, narrowing his eyes and translating his words clearly enough that his brother was easily able to garner the meaning when given more information than an empty glare.

“Oh? Am I responsible for you and your friend’s predicament? Obviously. To be completely truthful, though, you were never supposed to find out, and you were especially not supposed get infected yourself.”

Kusuo tilted his head to the side, keeping his eyes narrowed to hopefully keep his skepticism clear.

His brother laughed at first, “Aw, you look adorable like that. It barely looks like you’re angry,” Kusuo snapped his head back up instantly, “But no, I am not lying. That’s why I kidnapped and gave the virus to your brainless friend initially, so you wouldn’t hear any thoughts about it.”

Kuusuke paused to wave a hand dismissively at the question Kusuo didn’t even try to ask, anticipating the obvious.

“I never left London and your friend never left Japan, either. I had robots kidnap and inject him with the serum I had mailed to a private lab I own in the area beforehand. It was easier and I had no risk of getting infected myself. What I failed to realize is that your little pet idiot could break out of a room made of solid steel walls and take off the tracking collar in the process.”

The screen briefly flickered to an image of, presumably, the room Nendou had been held in. There was a large hole in one of the gray, metal walls, opening straight into the outside, and the image barely lasted a few seconds before his brother was back in view.

Ah. Kusuo didn’t think that was possible either, but this was Nendou they were talking about, who has done countless other inhuman feats like his stunt in the school marathon. If Kusuo didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nendou also had psychic abilities.

“Anyways, I’m sure you’re wanting my help with this…issue of yours?” Kuusuke questioned, not leaving room for Kusuo to respond before continuing.

Not that Kusuo would have replied anyways, but the implications were still rude.

“Why don’t you teleport over here right away and let me have a look? I have to admit, much to my shame… I have no way of making a cure without seeing the biological structure of the transformed state first. Otherwise I might be reverting things that are actually a part of your human body.”

That was the biggest pile of bullshit Kusuo had ever heard, and his eye roll only conveyed a tiny fraction of how pissed he was.

“Ah, you’re too smart for that, huh, Kusuo? Yeah, I actually don’t know if I can revert the lycanthropy at all, haha! I never planned to in the first place.”

…Sometimes, the truth hurt significantly more than the lie he had tried to get fed. Kusuo sighed, quite displeased, and stood with a stretch, walking right past his television and heading for the door of his bedroom, which he swung open telekinetically.

He couldn’t see his brother anymore, but he could, unfortunately, still hear him, “Cold shoulder, huh? I never said I wouldn’t try, Kusuo,” He paused mid-step, body halfway out of the door, “Teleport over tomorrow before school, since I really don’t think you’ll get anywhere near me transformed and you’re stuck like this until around six in the morning tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can think of. I won’t keep you anymore, mom’s about to call you down for dinner. Goodbye!”

Kusuo heard his television forcefully shut off with a faint click at the same time his mom’s thoughts grew in volume as they targeted him with ‘Ku-chan, dinner’s ready!’

He’d known dinner was ready. That was why he’d teleported home at this time and had started leaving the conversation when he had. Hmph. Maybe it was a little bit of intentional cold shoulder, sure, but it was mostly dinner.

Or at least that was what he’d tell his mom if Kuusuke whined to her about Kusuo being mean, because he was just being mean for the fun of it. It wasn’t like his brother didn’t deserve it. Sure, he said he was going to genuinely try and fix the whole stupid werewolf thing, but it was his fault in the first place so the effort overall amounted to nothing.

…Did Kuusuke say six in the morning? That probably meant the initial shift had been at six this morning, which added up. That was utterly ridiculous. It was from sunrise to sunrise on the day and night with the fullest moon. How irritating. Kusuo was very good at tuning out Kaidou and Aren’s train of dialogue at this point, helped by his seventeen years of experience tuning out telepathy in general, so much so that he could even forget about them, but their exclamations of horror at that time-frame brought them back into the forefront for a moment.

They’re going to be waiting in that hideout much longer than anticipated… Kusuo sent them a brief condolence. He sent himself a reminder to set an alarm for tomorrow morning so he could shift back promptly.

Abruptly done, Kusuo turned back into his room instead of stepping all the way out, finding and grabbing his dinner telekinetically and bringing it straight to himself, ignoring the silverware for obvious reasons. Upon seeing his plate float away from his table, his mom’s thoughts became rather worried, but he reassured her that he was fine, just still. Having issues.

“…And I’ll be going to see Kuusuke early tomorrow,” He tacked on as well, rolling his eyes at how that statement fully calmed her down in the end.

Setting the plate down on his desk, Kusuo did his best to hop onto his desk chair, grumbling as he landed and the chair teetered precariously before balancing. Doing that was much easier as a cat, considering he weighed around ten pounds as one compared to now in which he was probably a good bit over a hundred.

Mildly annoyed, he huffed again tonight, and started eating (And being a bit disheartened at how dull the normally delicious tonkatsu tasted. He didn’t have anywhere near as many taste buds as a human did, so it was like the flavor was distant and sad), debating on if even trying to sleep when he felt wild awake and irritated was even worth it.

Well, even just lying restfully in his bed would be nice, and Kusuo decided listlessly relaxing was how he’d spend the rest of the night. School tomorrow would probably be a pain after having to deal with his brother, and a mental break would be necessary.

If only he had his germanium ring to truly relax in silence, properly removing both forms of telepathy. As much as he was fond of his nuisances, it was socially draining to always be either in a conversation or hearing one, as the werewolf telepathy was louder than his.

‘Are you telling us to shut up?’

‘Of course not. I’m complaining to myself, not you.’

‘…Right.’

Back on track, even if he could wear a ring on paws, it was no longer functional. The initial transformation had taken his ring with it, just like his clothes, and it’d been warped and broken beyond repair due to Kusuo’s innate strength. If it hadn’t, he likely would’ve tied it to a string and placed it on his neck.

As it stood, it was one wrong tap from Kusuo away from shattering, which wasn’t good when one weak tap from Kusuo could kill a person.

At least in the fading hours of daylight as dusk transitioned to night, people were settling down; and while most people weren’t going to sleep, they were going from a busy day to a mellow night routine, and their minds quieted as a result.

Finishing his meal and barely stopping himself from zoning out and letting his brain decide to lick the rest of the plate clean, he squinted at the empty dish and activated his clairvoyance to see if he had any coffee jelly of equal value in the fridge.

Fantastically, he did. Thank god his parents didn’t splurge on fancy dishes and silverware. This cheap ceramic plate had the same value of a slightly high in value convenience store coffee jelly, and so he apported the two of them, not caring at all that his empty plate was now in the refrigerator.

Kusuo could put it up later, before his parents noticed. Probably.

The lack of hands was making Kusuo actually appreciative of the full scale of his ESP for once, as ripping the seal off of the cup of jelly was as simple as a flex of his mind.

His tail thumped against the side of chair from where it dangled downwards as he shoved his snout straight into the cup. The taste may be watered down and nowhere close to how divine it was normally, but there was still enough of it present for him to enjoy it blissfully.

When he finished it and licked the entire inside completely clean he apported the empty cup for a significantly cheaper but still good brand of coffee jelly, since eating the contents regrettably lowered the value.

He deserved two for this whole ordeal. Maybe three…

…Perhaps not three, actually, since it wouldn’t do if he ate too much coffee jelly while being unable to truly enjoy its delectable flavor…yeah, two would suffice. That reason was why he had avoided his favorite treat even when dealing with being miserable and shape-shifted against his will, but a whole day stuck as a dog warranted it.

----

Kusuo should not have eaten any coffee jelly.

His head and stomach burned fiercely but, at the very least, he heard little to no mental voices due to it being the middle of the night. Even Kaidou and Aren were fast asleep, evidently, since there was no trace of them in his mind. So he did get the reprieve of his headache was significantly less than it could have been in this moment.

His mom rubbed his back (Basically petting him but the comfort was something he would have gotten the exact same way in a human form, so whatever), kneeling down on the floor to be next to him as he sat on the same, chilly, bathroom tile, right in front of the toilet.

Caffeine was toxic to canines, as well as most other animals. Technically it was still toxic to humans but that was irrelevant due to humans having the constitution for it.

Wolves did not have the constitution for it. It made them very ill instead.

Yes, he’d known that, but he’s eaten coffee jelly in his cat form with no repercussions despite his biology being just as altered as it was now…but, on retrospect, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever spent the next few hours after those moments remaining in a cat form and letting that body start to digest it, instead turning back before that could happen.

His mom’s mind was frantic with distress which was fair considering she’d found her normally invulnerable son still transformed and heaving the contents of his stomach into the toilet in the middle of the night after waking up from the noise of him teleporting and landing loudly into the bathtub at first because he’d been disoriented and nauseous, but she’d refused to let her mind come up with and ask questions until she was sure Kusuo was going to be alright.

She was a godsend, and so he decided to explain of his own free will so she wouldn’t start crying, which she was far too close to for comfort, flicking his gaze to the side so that it met hers.

“I’m okay. Or getting there. Dogs can’t have coffee or they get sick. I ate two cups of coffee jelly after dinner…I think I forgot to take the plate I apported into the fridge back out as well. Sorry.”

“Kusuo…” The use of his actual name was usually a bad sign, but now it was more out of exasperation and worry than anything of the scolding variety, “Can you still not turn back?”

He just shook his head, not wanting to explain that he wouldn’t be able to until a time frame that was far too specific for what he was still pretending was a power malfunction.

Kurumi just hummed sadly at that, continuing to stroke his back even as his scooted a bit away from the toilet. His stomach was still rolling queasily, but Kusuo was fairly sure that his body was done being absolutely disgusting.

He almost shuddered remembering how it had felt. He was beyond glad his ESP made him neigh immune to disease, because vomiting was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever experienced so far in life.

As he continued to pull himself back together, staring blearily at the white bathroom floor tiles, his mom asked him another question, “Would medicine help?”

“Even if it did, given my powers, I can’t take it like this. Human medication is a very big no-no for animals,” He sighed mentally and slowly raised himself off the ground, taking shaky steps past his mom and towards the open bathroom door. It was dark in the house, and so the hallway outside looked pitch in contrast to the illuminated bathroom, even with his ability to see in the dark.

The bathroom was, fortunately, rather close to his bedroom, so he decided against teleporting and padded slowly back to his room, pausing as his mom rushed ahead to open the door for him, leaving the bathroom light on in the process.

That was sweet of her, even if he probably could have used his telekinesis fine. He sent a quiet thanks to her and closed the gap to his bed agonizingly slowly, as his stomach lurched ominously whenever he tried to speed up more than a tiny bit.

Kusuo had actually managed to drift asleep briefly before this incident, lulled sufficiently by soft mental voices as he laid on his bed, and now he was even sleepier feeling. It seemed like getting sick had actually assisted in granting him some much needed rest.

He didn’t bother to shut his bedroom door, nosing under the covers of his bed until he was completely buried and comfortable, wondering faintly where his mom had gone when he heard her footsteps go downstairs, but overall not that concerned about it.

It was only when he had nearly fallen asleep again that his heightened hearing noticed her approaching his bed, and she called for him as she approached the lump of covers he’d become, “Ku-chan?”

He stuck his head out from under his blankets, the rest of his body curled up tightly behind him, looking curiously at his mom as she held a bowl full of water out at him, setting it down on his end table once she’d confirmed that he knew of its presence.

“If you feel up to it, you should make sure to drink some water, okay? Otherwise you’ll get dehydrated, since you just threw up,” She reached a hand down and stroked his head gently, and Kusuo nodded both to signify that he heard her and to dislodge it politely.

He knew that. He just hadn’t felt like getting himself water when he would have survived the night regardless. But, now that it had been brought to him, he crawled up on his bed until he could stick his muzzle into the bowl and drink as his mom turned to leave, wishing him a good rest of the night that he almost forgot to return.

Drinking from a bowl like this was mildly demeaning, but it was significantly less of a hassle than using telekinesis to drink from a cup was. So, since he was feeling very icky and wanted to exert as little energy as possible right now, he decided he didn’t care, tucking his head right back under his blanket once he’d had enough to satiate his thirst.

----

Waking up to an alarm at six in the morning when he didn’t have to be at school until closer to nine would usually be a miserable experience, but for once, Kusuo was downright filled with joy when he remembered why he was startled out of a deep sleep so early.

#werewolf au #akira scribbles #<- i guess even wips can go here now lol #saiki k #saiki kusuo no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k. #kubosai

[leqclerc]

https://twitter.com/Planet_F1/status/1650107260113408001?t=ne-Ac3VPtJrsvRvWD3nUtw&s=19

The Spanish propaganda machine is going again. I find this so funny. Its like every week they have to release a new anti-leclerc article. As if Joan-hasn't been in the paddock in over 10 years-villadelprat knows anything about what happens at ferrari. And even if this was true, how embarrassing is it that you're apparently so hardworking but still lapping 7 tenths off and qualifying half a second behind your "lazy teammate" at some races. I wonder if Carlos/his team realise how damaging these types of articles are to his reputation and his relationship with the tifosi, like we can clearly see the source of this "interview" is from a Spanish c-rate publication that has ties to his family. I can't wait for this family to leave Ferrari alone

No fr this is basically a weekly segment by now, enough 😭😭😭

I mean just the fact that the quote is coming from a Spanish guy being interviewed by a Spanish publication speaks volumes about the impartiality of this article 🥴 First of all, like you said, he's hardly a prominent Ferrari figure or insider these days. So idk why anyone would consider him an authority on the current Ferrari happenings.

Second of all, there's plenty of sources that completely contradict the stuff he says here. Charles's past teammates, mechanics, engineers, team principals, the people he's worked with throughout his career, generally have nothing but good things to say about him. Seb's out here calling him the most talented driver he's seen in his F1 career and saying that everyone at Ferrari immediately knew he's special. You've got Beat Zehnder praising not only his talent but also his attitude and work ethic. Charles is usually one of the first drivers to clock into the paddock in the morning and has been known to leave late, help mechanics, and so on. He's working in the sim in Maranello whenever he can, even taking time out of his private holiday with family to drop into the factory when he's needed. But yeah, let's trust the guy whose longest section on Wikipedia is titled Epsilon scandal and Supreme Court sentence. 🫱🏻‍🫲🏻 on your last point, anon.

#replies #anonymous #i know the media and press always likes to stir the pot and we also had an anti charles narrative going in 2019-20 #but the spanish pr campaign is truly something else. like clockwork baby! #he's easier to work with??? causes less of a fuss??? sir he was the catalyst for ferrari's embarrassing flop right of review fiasco be ffr #also like im sorry but . charles raced against 4x wdc sebastian vettel whom he adored and admired and he outperformed him #i really dont think he's concerned abt carlos of all people sjdjfkrg he lichrally does not care #discussions and predictions

[washipink]

The Rain Review (Finale)

If you’ve been with my blog for the past week or so, You’ll know I’ve been reading a childhood favorite webcomic of mine, Rain by Jocelyn Samara. And you’d probably be wondering what happened to my review of the comic Year-by-Year. The answer? I went on a road trip for a few days and couldn’t help but read the whole rest of the comic. So today I’m here to talk about my overall thoughts.

For the uninitiated, Rain is a slice-of-life webcomic that started in 2010. It’s about a transgender teenage girl of the same name navigating her senior year at a Catholic high school. There’s a LOT of romantic and gender-related drama. Friends are made and lost. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll see yourself in the characters somewhere along the line.

My experience with Rain prior to this project only goes up to about 2014. I started reading it in middle school on Smackjeeves.com. Y’all remember Smackjeeves? I miss it every day. Apparently it redirects to a shitty webtoon clone now. IDK where I’m gonna find peoples’ sprite comics produced in 2013 now.

Anyway, I bring this up to say that I had stopped keeping up with Rain even though she was a major part of me accepting who I was. When I found out that her story had come to a close, I had a real need to find out how.

This time, there won’t be a plot summary because this comic ran for 11 years and it takes me long enough to do just 1. That and, if I may spoil my final opinion, I really want you to give it a read for yourself.

ART

I want to get this one out of the way because it’s a very common critique that even I hold to some extent. The art in Rain is a clear indicator of the era its artist hails from. In 2010, anime and manga had just hit the American mainstream. Everyone was reading those “How to Draw Anime” books and took a lot of notes from them. To showcase, here’s a page from Chapter 1, the first color page in fact.

This page is actually one of the busier pages in terms of art. Jocelyn doesn’t usually do background details much, if at all. Usually, backgrounds are depicted as solid colors that are associated with specific locations. Grey for the apartment, sky blue for outside, light green for school, etc. But the way Rain is drawn here bears a striking resemblance to the styles a LOT of people were using at the time.

While Jocelyn’s style stays rooted in, shall we say, American who got really into anime, her techniques evolve over time. Especially in terms of displaying what’s going on with limited background detail.

As an example, I really enjoy this scene. Rain and Emily are, in universe, speaking over the phone right now. But neither of them are holding their phones to their ears. They’re looking at each other as if they’re in the same room. Jocelyn uses a gradient background to signify that the two of them are NOT in the same room, but as they get closer during their conversation, they get physically closer in the panel as well.

This page is taken from 2014, about 4 years into the comic’s run. You can see that Jocelyn’s brush choices have changed. Everything is far smoother than it was toward the start. While the overall style is as simplistic as year 1, her technique has changed a lot.

That comfort with her work only continues to grow. Below is a panel from a bonus page that released after the comic’s conclusion. The line work is the cleanest its ever been.

STORY AND CHARACTERS

Now this right here is the REAL meat of the comic. Regardless of any feelings I had on the art, the characters really endeared me. And this being a slice-of-life teen drama, they had plenty of time to learn, grow, and clash against one another.

The majority of the conflict in Rain comes from people being set in their ways. Rain’s whole gaggle of queer friends is hiding from the school’s principal, who refuses to acknowledge that maybe there’s nothing wrong with being a little gay. One of the most compelling ongoing threads in the comic centers around Rain’s brother and sister trying to understand and accept her. These personal stakes were a really enjoyable break from the kind of thing I usually read. In Rain, there is no world to be saved or villain to defeat, but there IS a prom to go to. Sometimes, that’s all you need to tell a good story.

The comic has this small-town vibe I care for a lot. Sometimes, a character will exit another’s life and you’ll never expect to see them again. Then they’ll end up dating Rain’s aunt or something. Word spreads fast in Centerville. People are gossipy. Sometimes, you tell someone something and it reaches ears you didn’t want to hear it. That gossip is what makes things so dangerous for Rain. If the wrong person finds her out, then EVERYONE finds her out. The same goes for all her friends.

There’s all kinds of flavor of queer in this comic in a way that mirrors real life friend groups. We have a tendency to find each other like that.

With all kinds of queers being hormonal teens, things get messy FAST. There’s a lot of things that happen in this comic that I feel like baby gays need to see. There’s a point where a gay boy and a trans girl start going out because... this just happens sometimes. Nobody is “the villain” in this scenario. They both just tried to explore themselves and found mixed results.

That’s one of the big themes of Rain. Self-exploration. Every chapter, we’re learning more about these characters as they learn more about themselves. Nobody stays in the same headspace for too long. They’re constantly evolving.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Rain is ABSOLUTELY worth the read. It’s actually a really easy read. I was able to finish it in about 2 weeks, so I’m sure it won’t take up too much of your time. But, it’s a really heartwarming story that I’m sure a lot of us can relate to. Thanks for going on this journey with me. And be safe, Rain Beaus.

#Amy's Rain Review #Rain webcomic #Rain LGBT #Rain by Jocelyn Samara #Jocelyn Samara #lgbt webcomics

[e-munson666]

PT 2

***After the incident at the Henderson house, Eddie is ultra determined to figure you out. But will Dustin be upset about it?***

+++Fluffy & Angsty+++

Still an unnamed series, tysm for the love on the first one (idk how to link it to this one yet sorry lol im brand new to Tumblr)

×drug use mention, language, angst? kinda mean Eddie I guess idk.×

>Mostly in Eddies P.O.V for this one<

🖤xoxo

Its been two days since Eddie walked into the Henderson house and saw her, ethereal in the way she sat on the couch, crossed legs, delicate flicks of the sharpie to her nails. The way the joint hung to her lips, And the way her hair swayed from the breeze of the ac unit she was sat so close to. Why was he STILL thinking about it. Why didn't Dustin say anything about her return? Why did he even care? He grumbled into his pillow "what the fuck is wrong with me?!" slamming his fist into his mattress.

~The next day at lunch~

"HENDERSON" Eddie yells across the cafeteria, seeing Dustin and Mike wide eyed and nervously shuffling towards the Hellfire Clubs usual table.

"Um, he...hey Eddie" Dustin chokes out. "What's up" he ask, chuckling nervously. As if he didn't already know where this conversation was heading. Like Eddie hasn't bugged him constantly since Friday.

"Henderson, Hellfire is tonight, is SHE giving you a ride, or should I pick you up after I get Mike here" Eddie asks squeezing both of the boys shoulders while hovering above them where they sat.

"I don't uh....I don't know if she's giving me a ride, she wasn't home when I left this morning so I couldn't ask. I'll just catch a ride with you.......Eddie?!" Dustin realizes that Eddies grip on his shoulder had fallen. And he was angrily walking in a circle around the table.

Eddie folds his arms into his chest at the revelation. "What is her problem with me anyway Henderson" he spits, unable to hide the annoyance but still obvious intrigue in his voice.

"Eddie, you didn't even remember her, it pissed her off ok, I TOLD YOU THIS....yesterday.....remember" Dustin says sighing, rolling his eyes. He really was tired of Eddie fucking asking about his sister. Why isn't he more focused on the campaign? Wasn't tonight supposed to be a big deal?

"In my defense" Eddie began, shuffling his feet quickly as he continued circling around the group. "She looks NOTHING like she used to ok. I barely registered it was her, even after you told me!" Throwing his arms up, quickly spinning on his heels to face Dustin, now directly across from where he sat.

"Wait whats going on?" Mike asks, utterly confused as to what's happening. "Your sister is back?!"

"Yes, she's back, and apparently its driving Eddie here completely bonkers. He hasn't shut up about it since last week!" Dustin whispered to Mike hoping Eddie wouldn't hear.

"Eddie you guys were in the same grade your whole lives, you were FRIENDS, then when she graduated and you didn't, you two totally stopped being friends, and then she left to go find her dad" Dustin said, eyes trained on Eddies, watching the wide eyed, open mouthed expression on his face as he registers what Dustin was saying.

"She stopped talking to me Henderson. She didn't even tell me she was going to leave for a whole year to find her dad and then one day, poof, she was gone without a word." Eddie says leaning over the table, nose almost pressed up against Dustin's. Breathing rapidly out of pure anger. Or was it? Was he really this upset about her leaving? Or was he just mad she wouldn't speak to him after what happened on Friday?

"I know I know" Dustin says, voice cracking, scooting his face as far away from Eddies as he could. "You're mad at her, she's mad at you, and now somehow, I AM RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF YOUR BULLSHIT!!!" Dustin yells, throwing his hands in the air in defeat.

"So I'll swing by and pick you up at 6 Henderson. Hopefully she's there.....I want to know what I did that has HER mad at me" "after what she did" he spat the last part out, standing up straight and storming out of cafeteria to his van. He needed to smoke, asap. His cheeks were burning red and his knuckles were white from clenching his fists as he walked. Why was he letting her get to him so bad? After all this time? He thought he was passed this, over what happened. Slamming the door to his van as he slouched into the seat in the back, he lit a joint and took a long puff. As he exhaled the smoke he chuckled to himself, "Way to keep your cool Munson" and closed his eyes. Defeated.

"This is going to be an absolute shit show" Dustin sighs to Mike, as they both pick up their trays and head to the cafeteria exit.

"Yes, yes it is" Mike shakes his head, still not fully understanding what is going on.

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things

[kittlesandbugs]

okay, hmmrmrmr. 13 + E + IV? for Ortega and Riley my beloved if you want.

I have once again taken the FHR prompt and gone in a direction that was probably unexpected. Um. Idk, trying something out with this one. I have no idea if this would actually happen like this but lol...

Title: Debrief Pairing: Chargestep (past) Warnings: Farm 2.0 times and all the fun with that. Some nonconsentual touching/manhandling, physical abuse. Nothing sexual but, uncomfy probably. Word Count: 894 Prompt: 13. “That’s not how it happened.”, E. Memory, IV. Make it an interview scene

Video Transcript  Dr. Krisoph Meyer, Subject R0F81734 Debriefing Attempt #3 14:45 09-22-2013

[A tall middle aged, well-dressed man in a lab coat walks into the examination room. His left hand is bandaged. He approaches the table where a female Re-Gene is strapped down at the arms, wrists, torso, knees and ankles.  Its light brown skin is mottled with fresh bruising under bright orange tattoos.]

KM: Is it finally ready to speak? I don't have any more time to waste on its pathetic theatrics. 

[An unnamed technician tightens the straps holding it down and it grimaces.] 

UT: Your guess is as good as mine, but at least it can't bite anyone this time. 

S: Come over here and try me. 

KM: Ah, it speaks at last. 

[The Re-Gene snarls and turns its head away.]

KM: Now that we know you are capable of speech, I wish to discuss your time as Sidestep. Specifically, the Nanosurge. 

S: Wish in one hand and shit in the other. See which one fills up faster. 

KM: The official reports state that the vigilante Sidestep was key in stopping this atrocity. That they used a device to control the nanovores and halt their advancement until they could be contained. That's not how it happened, is it? 

[The Re-Gene stares at the wall with a blank expression.]

KM: We have done some research into the matter since your return. Sidestep was a fascinating character for you to play. 

S: ... 

KM: You had the whole city fooled into thinking you were a hero. Perhaps we trained you too well. 

S: Don't break your arm patting yourself on the back. 

KM: An eyewitness account states you had no such device. That you controlled them yourself, as if by magic. 

S: Unstrap me and I'll show you some magic. I'll pull my foot out of your ass—

KM: We both know magic had nothing to do with it. 

S: —after I shove it down your throat. 

KM: Your telepathy has grown much more powerful since you were last home. 

[The Re-Gene flinches at the word 'home'.] 

S: Has it? I don't know how you can tell with the dampeners on all the time. Turn them off and let's test it out. 

KM: Your boost actually isn't what interests me the most about this particular eye witness account. 

S: ... 

KM: Tell me, what was your relationship with Marshal Charge? 

[The Re-Gene is quiet for several seconds before answering with a flat voice.]

S: We didn't have one. He's an idiot. 

KM: Sidestep was known to be a frequent collaborator with the Rangers. Don't bother lying to me about that. It seems you leaped into action during the Nanosurge only once the Marshal was in danger of being devoured.

S: Coincidence. 

KM: I wonder. [Dr. Meyer flips through his notes.] It seems you and the Marshal were quite close. You both spent two weeks recovering at Elena Ortega's ranch after he was released from the hospital. You apparently went there together often. 

S: How do you—

KM: The report is correct, then? 

S: Only if it's telling you to get fucked. 

KM: If you continue this belligerence, we will have no choice but to corroborate these reports with alternate sources. Shall we have Elena Ortega brought in? Surely she would remember if you had a relationship with her son. 

S: ... 

KM: Of course, we would not be at liberty to return her after the interrogation. 

[The Re-Gene visibly pales as its head whips around to the doctor. It says something incomprehensible.]

KM: Do speak up. 

S: ...The report is correct. All of it. 

KM: Good. Then I will ask you again. What was your relationship with Marshal Charge? 

[The Re-Gene wilts and shakes its head.]

S: … I don't know what to call it. 

KM: It seems he was very affectionate towards you. 

[Dr. Meyer runs his fingers along the freshly healed scar on its torso and it tries to flinch away.]

KM: Were you intimate? 

S: No! 

KM: Did you want to be? 

S: … 

KM: Is he aware of what you are? 

[Dr. Meyer traces one of the orange lines across its chest. The Re-Gene shivers.]

S: (very quietly) No. He doesn't know. 

KM: Were you afraid he would turn you in, despite his apparent affection?

S: Yes. 

KM: Why? 

S: He hates Re-Genes. 

KM: And yet despite knowing this, you continued to have a relationship with him? 

S: ...yes. 

KM: Why? 

[The Re-Gene looks away and stares at the wall.]

KM: You enjoyed your twisted little delusions. 

S: ... 

KM: You liked pretending to be human. 

S: … 

KM: Such a perverse little cuckoo. 

S: ... 

KM: Was anyone else aware of your pathetic charade? 

S: No. 

KM: Not even Anathema? As I understand it, you were close as well. 

S: No. Not that it matters. She's dead. 

KM: I see. I suppose this concludes our appointment today. 

S: Doctor? 

KM: What? 

S: There's something else you should know. 

[The Re-Gene says something too quiet to make out.]

KM: Speak up. 

[The Re-Gene's glances towards the technician and it shakes its head. Dr. Meyer rolls his eyes and leans down close to it.]

KM: What is so—

[The Re-Gene's head snaps up and the doctor screams. Blood runs down from his nose. Its mouth splits in a wide grin. The video feed cuts out.]

#kitbug writes things #fhr #sidestep #farm 2.0 #thank you for the prompt!!! #i am not entirely sold on this one... #but i'm tired of looking at it lol #i tried something different and that's the important thing right? #how much did the farm dig into sidestep's life? #i'd like to think a lot #they'd want to know everything about their errant regene #for research if nothing else lol #and why not use it to torment her in the meantime right?

[aydansdiary]

FNAF SNAPS HEHE

more fnaf snaps !!! honestly this post is super late I've had these since for a WHILE and just never posted this lol

also as i'm posting this the new SB snaps have came out but i'm broke so it will probs be a couple weeks till i get those lol

decent haul for todays post !!!

first off is golden freddy and the stage !!! as ive said before werid combo but okay !!!

heres the golden boy himself !!!! i love him so much i thought he was gonna look super silly but the recolor of og freddy with the white eyes was a good call (+ cheaper for funko lol) i kinda wish he had black eyes but i think the white is more striking overall (apparently i forgot to take a picture of his alt face so sorry but i'm too lazy to get up >:( )

heres the stage !!!!! i love it so much !!!!! so cool !!! perfect !!! stunning !!! everything i wanted for it !!!! i just love this playset so much !!! its just yes

heres golden freddy with the stage !!!

next here is the toy chica and nightmare chica two pack !!! werid combo but we have established that !!!

here they are !!! i really like nightmare chica ALOT more then i thought i would !!! i'm missing the lets eat on her bib tho :( thats disappointing tbh it dosent even look like a bib it looks more like a creaked egg but at least its chicken themed ... for toy chica shes over all okay i dont love her i think thares something off about her but i cant figure out what it is i think she just doesn't look good in the snaps style which is disappointing but not unforgivable

heres thare endos !!! i love the nightmare endos so so much it just looks so cool !!!

heres thare alt faces !!! i think toy chica looks better here but still odd lol for nightmare chica i just think the two faces look too much alike i would much rather had another accessory then another face that looks identical to the other :( speaking of accessories the fucking cupcakes ... they look nice sure but i was screaming, sobbing, wailing, rolling on the floor trying those get these mfers in thare hands i was about to sell my soul to the fucking devil just to get these things in :,)

now for og bonnie and foxy !!!

here they are !!! i love them !! they are so stinking cute !!! i just want to smoosh them !!! especially foxy which is odd because hes my least fav of the main 4 (sorry mel) foxy just looks perfect to me !!! bonnie looks super cute too !!! a little dead inside but he really is giving fnaf 1 bonnie !!! i just love these silly boys !!! idk why bonnie has this pizza guitar but pop off ig i gave the pizza one too toy bonnie and gave him toy bonnies lol

here they are with thare silly angry faces !!! i love how absolutely appalled foxy looks as if u ripped ass at the dinner party and i love how bonnies anti eyebrow statement is adding to this lol (me too bonnie)

enjoy this monstrosity <3

i added the main 3 to the stage with foxy peaking in <33 i love this playset so much !!!

ive got everyone else shoved into the storage room

here are the two playsets connected !!! i really like the look of them together i cant wait to get more to connect !!!

overall i really like these guys and cant wait to get the SB ones !!!

#fnaf #fnaf merch #five nights at freddys #funko #funko photography #fnaf snaps #snaps #toy collector #toy collection

[syyskirjat]

(Carmilla Weekly, Chapter 2, Sept. 11th)

I have to start again with an addition to last week, because I forgot to mention it: we never really did find out who Laura is writing to, do we? This account was discovered among Doctor Hesselius's papers, and the Doctor has apparently was in contact with Laura at some point, but Doctor Hesselius is supposed to be German, and Laura says "your English miles", which would imply that she's writing to an English recipient. I'll keep an eye on this, I don't remember if we ever get any more hints.

A small linguistic note: "Mademoiselle Rheinfeldt" with the French honorific is interesting. Are the Rheinfeldts a French-speaking family? Or is it just a random quirk of Laura's multilingual upbringing? Or another convention entirely? I do know that there was a point when many of the royal families in continental Europe spoke French, but would that apply to the nobility as well? And even as late as the 19th century? I have no clue. Maybe it’s just Laura’s habit. It does seem like French would most likely be the language most often spoken in their household since it’s the language they all probably share, unless her father doesn’t speak French.

Another small linguistic note but this time probably just for me: I was always confused by the "lime trees" but I've just discovered that it actually just means linden trees, which makes much more sense.

Anyway Fs in chat for poor Bertha. o7

"The fiend who betrayed our infatuated hospitality has done it all. I thought I was receiving into my house innocence, gaiety, a charming companion for my lost Bertha. Heavens! what a fool have I been!"

I'm sure this won't be plot relevant in anyway. Zero foreshadowing here. Don't worry about it.

It's worth noting though that Bertha's illness lasted at least six or seven weeks according to Laura, starting as something barely remarkable.

Poor Laura as well, she was so looking forward to a new friend. Wonder how her and Bertha would have been together if they had had the chance?

But of course the sorrowful mood is no reason not to describe the pretty view!

Mademoiselle De Lafontaine—in right of her father who was a German, assumed to be psychological, metaphysical, and something of a mystic—now declared that when the moon shone with a light so intense it was well known that it indicated a special spiritual activity. 

(...)

"when you look behind you at the front of the schloss how all its windows flash and twinkle with that silvery splendor, as if unseen hands had lighted up the rooms to receive fairy guests.”

I feel like old vampire stories are so much more mystical about them, they're more like some kind of fae folk than just, idk, intelligent zombies.

there stands by the roadside a magnificent lime tree, on the other stands an ancient stone cross, at sight of which the horses, now going at a pace that was perfectly frightful, swerved so as to bring the wheel over the projecting roots of the tree.

Swerved to avoid the cross, you say? Hmmm... (okay I mean that's definitely something that horses would probably do, but the symbolism is very on the nose.)

"It would, on the contrary, be to confer on us a very great kindness at the moment when we most need it. My daughter has just been disappointed by a cruel misfortune, in a visit from which she had long anticipated a great deal of happiness. If you confide this young lady to our care it will be her best consolation"

Ah, how convenient.

#carmilla weekly #carmilla

[outofcontexturi]

tuesday 11th October 2022 journal

today has been a good day. im in a better mood than i was yesterday. I feel good man. the moon looks so beautiful tonight too! it looked gorgeous yesterday but today its even more special because its in taurus rn and its a full moon and taurus is my moon sign so ykwtfigo! you guessed it nigga im high. great high btw. i also need to get something to eat. gonna have that plantain and spinach stew again me thinks. save money. it’s currently 20:00pm and im listening to Remedy by Cherise again. life has been so kind to me today and the last few weeks/months. im so fucking grateful that im being heard by the universe and shit. thank you God fr. I love you. People from my past have contacted me. Two Sagittarius women. both quite similar in few ways but still similar. Juliet and Eunique. never thought id put those two names together but surprise from the cosmic whatever, God, universe, idk nigga but like damn. And i checked my astrological compatibility of Juliet and I and we are very compatible. its like i was meant to meet her in this lifetime or something idk. cause i’ve deffo said that i feel like she’s gonna be in my life for a while for some reason and even though i dont really want to speak to her like that its just interesting that there’s a weird attraction we seem to gravitate towards each other during long periods away. i’ve only known her 2 years. its weird though man. I had a conversation with her today for the first time in months. im only just deeping that omg. i genuinely dont remember the last time i spoke to her so it was weird doing it today in a way. its also cosmic convenience that happened to be listening to me on my way home as i saw Naia i said to myself “wouldn’t it be funny if i see Juliet” as i exit the doors and walk to the exit WHO DO I FUCKING SEE? Juliet and Jacob lmaoooooooo like what are the chances??? i could’ve seen anyone but I saw the person i thought about hahah thats weird man. But anyways i had a nice little catch up with her about agencies, how she wont be doing theatre unless she’s getting paid properly, and how she spent some of her summer as well as how rehearsals are going for her(and jacob) at the moment. they said it was very physically demanding and that they were meant to have a tech rehearsal yesterday but they’re doing it today. there seemed to be alot of fatigue in the space from both Juliet and Jacob. Chloe came to give Jacob a form to fill out to do with allergies or some shit like that. Juliet told me about how she was in Rhode Island over the summer and how she flooded a hotel there lmao. apparently the fine was $9.000 or some shit like that. It’s just so weird that we’re talking like nothing between us has happened and that she ghosted me for months and then randomly yesterday sent me a tick tok? and cause i have her archived in my whatsapp i saw a notification in there and was thinking who’s this? and saw it was her and saw a tik tok on the message and thought huh??? why?? whats going on here?? anyways i ended up replying to her and then i decided to do a birth chart compatibility and we probably knew each other from another lifetime because we’re quite drawn to each other for some weird reason. i dont know why and i kinda wanna know why.  Role Model by Brent Faiyaz has been my song of the day. Danny Lee also left today. i dont know where i’d be without him man. God bless him! i need to be more considerate of Honey and i plan on doing that. I need to listen to her when she talks about herself to me. i love her. we’re doing tech tomorrow. this rehearsal process is coming to an end. i cant believe it. well i can but like its been 4 weeks or something like that like damn! i didnt think i’d be the version of who i am now when i started lamda let alone third year. proud of myself man. this thought is proudly brought to you by time 20:46pm. dont miss out. nah come on tell me that wasn’t a good little slogan for time. come on man. i gonna add that to the rambles. right now. im gonna sign off here. i’ll talk to you soon. Sign out time: 21:10pm.

#me #journal

[smashpunk]

OH YEAH I FORGOT TO SHARE THIS HERE

I handtyped every single anagram (or would it be letter configuration because im pretty sure anagrams only mean direct words coming from other words. not what im doing here) of the word ‘W3NDIGO’

ive gotta censor because apparently its a cursed word. and speaking its name allowed can attract it. i dont know the rules exactly on typing it but im obviously gonna be safe. but i am aware that writing variations is fine. like alot of people call them wendigoons. wow. so cool

anyway back on track. i started over a year ago. and handtyped all 5040 letter configuration of the word. (a year sounds like a lot but i forgot it existed for like the majority of the time. if i went at it nonstop and didnt sleep i could probably crack it in like 3 days or something idk)

but now that im done i need a new word. an 8 letter word. because ive done this for 1-7.

it went:

1=A

2=We

3=Gay

4=Jest

5=Bread

6=Dragon

and then obviously the one i just finished. and i spent like a week picking the word i wanted to use. and now im doing the same for my 8 letter word

the qualifications of this word are as follows: it must be 8 letters long (obviously), it must have no repeating letters (because multiple of the same letter means multiple of the same configurations, its like hexahexaflexagon rules when you get to the backwards 3 side that is technically still the same 3 but who can tell), and i must enjoy this word the most out of any other word that meet the other to qualifications

ive found a list of 8 letter words with no repeating letters and ive gone down the alphabet for ones starting with a all through z. and ive picked all the ones i liked. now i begin whittling down the competition until one remains

ITS SO FUN. ITS SO SO FUN. AUTISM IS WHEN WORDS AND LETTERS. I LOVE DOING THIS SO MUCH

[taylorswiftarthistories]

Bülowstraße Station by Lesser Ury, 1922 / "Sparks Fly" by Taylor Swift

#apparently its speak now week over here idk #Bülowstraße Station #lesser ury #german impressionism #post impressionism #sparks fly #taylor swift #speak now #speak now tv #art history