#for some god forsaken reason his death wrecked me

[theguywithnonickname]

You know, when I started watching 90′s Sailor Moon not too long ago, the absolute last thing I expected was that I would get emotionally wrecked by two gay villains and yet here we are.

#guess what #I'm on Zoisite's death episode #and like #it's so SO melodramatic but it WORKS #strangely enough #it made me legitimately Feel a Feeling #there must be something seriously wrong with me #they didn't even give him a redemption arc or anything like that #(like what they did with Nephrite) #no he was evil until the very end and yet #for some god forsaken reason his death wrecked me #idk man must've been how he and kunzite genuinely seemed to care about each other #come to think of it we don't see that kind of thing with genuinely villanous characters all that often #so props to 90's Sailor Moon for doing that #sailor moon #zoisite #kunzite #kunzoi #i swear i get invested in the wierdest things

[slayleysstuff]

This fanfic includes Lucio x Reader (romantic) and Nadia x reader (platonic)

This fanfic includes mention of death so if you are sensitive to that please do not read!!

This takes place when the red plague had just started in Vesuvia and before it started spreading really badly.

This is the readers POV !!

——————————————————————————

“God damnit.” I whisper, I had woken with my eyes bright red I looked god forsaken awful. My cheeks were boney and my fingers felt frail.

Why was this happening? The red plague had started to spread a bit here and there around Vesuvia but the palace hadn’t been affected.

Not until now.

Lucio, my lover, was out of town for a few days to do his “duties” we all know that he’s ignoring all responsibility and only partying but he will be back in a few days. What are we going to do now? How will I look at him and say, “I won’t be alive much longer.”

Oh god what would I say to Nadia? Nadia has become one of my closest friends in the palace, it was a bit awkward at first since her and Lucio are married but then again it’s only for political reasons.

Nadia and I were to hang around the palace gardens today since she has a few hours to spare in between a meeting. What was I going to say? “I cant go I have the plague”

Well actually that is the only thing I can do.

“Excuse me? (Y/n)? Your breakfast is ready!” I heard one of the servants shout through the door.

“Please! Do not come in! Leave it out my door…” a cough starts to arise as I clutch my chest for air. No one told me the plague was going to be so fucking painful.

“(Y/n)? Are you okay? Would you like some medici-“

“No! Just leave the breakfast,” I sounded a bit harsh, “thank you.” I say.

I hear the footsteps patter away from my chambers. I decided that I must inform the Countess of my illness through a letter, I would rather not have her see me in this state. Not just that but this red plague is so new to Vesuvia that we haven’t figured out the reason it’s spreading. People say it’s because of beetles others say something different, me just being a magician I chose not to pay no mind to what might cause it. I thought I was safe, how foolish I am.

Im weak, my knees won’t stop shaking whenever I took a step. I grab the ink and start writing.

Dear Countess Nadia,

I am writing to you because I have to inform you I have come down with the red plague. I would rather you not see me in this state, and also we don’t know exactly what is causing this plague. We have suspected it’s because of the beetles but this plague is still so new to Vesuvia that we can never be too sure. I would not want to get you sick, you have a city to rule. Please my dearest friend, be safe.

- (Y/n)

The hand writing was a bit messy from when my fingers would slightly jerk, im scared. Of course it’s only natural. But I’m not dead yet.

I leave the note in an envelope, wrote who it’s to, and proceeded to open the door putting it on the breakfast tray. I don’t know when the servant would be back but she will see the letter when she gets the tray.

————————————————————————

Its been a few hours and I heard another knock.

“Y/n! Please open the door I have received your letter!” I heard Countess Nadia express worryingly through my door.

“Nadia please, I don’t want to get you sick!”

“Oh please your not going to get me sick. The plague it’s spread through plague beetles.”

“What? But I heard-“

“Y/n what have I told you about listening to rumors on political and detrimental things, our doctors confirmed it two weeks ago did you not know this? Ugh I’m tired of yelling im coming in!!”

Nadia bursted through the door completely unfazed by my wrecked state.

“The plague spreads through the beetles?” I ask hesitation lacing my words. It eases me to know I won’t get anyone in the Palace sick just by breathing around them.

“Yes but I guess you were to wrapped up in your spell books to be focusing on the sickness rising right now, understandable I suppose…” she looks around the room seeing my curtains closed.

She reaches to pull them open but she stops, “I know your dying, no one has survived this so far,” She finally lets them open and turns around with a melancholy expression.

“Let’s just enjoy what time left we have with each other…” she tries to continue her speech but her lips quiver and tears were obviously edging at her eyelashes.

“Nadia…” I start but she just slumps down head in hands onto my bed and cries.

“Oh Y/n you have been such a dear friend to me, I don’t know what I am going to do when your… gone.” She chokes out the last part. I rest my hand on her shoulder not knowing what to do. I usually know how to fix things but I can’t fix this. I don’t know how to fix it.

“Nadia?” She looks up with her makeup in ruins, “would you still like to walk in the gardens with me today?” I can’t do anything about me dying, and I don’t want to sit here and pity myself. Death is inevitable it comes to anyone and everyone, mine is just a little earlier than expected.

————————————————————————

It’s been a few days since I had gotten the plague and it has gotten worse every waking second. Lucio still isn’t back, oh how I wish he was. He was supposed to be back two days ago, at first I was worried his traveling had gone wrong but I was later informed he needed to stay a few extra days to fulfill his responsibilities since he “never had the chance” to get around to it.

Damnit Lucio can you not be so ignorant for once.

I need you right now, more than ever.

With every plea that I had in my mind I knew he wasn’t going to burst through the door to hold me tight. I wont bother to write to him he would be home by the time the letter had gotten there.

My death is so near that I can almost taste it. Nadia has been here helping me getting me whatever I need. We have long convos about the servants scandals we eavesdrop on and whatever is going on across the seas with Vesuvias trading partners.

Lately it’s been Nadia doing most of the talking, my throat feelings like it’s been set on fire and scraped with toothpicks.

Not to mention my coughs that echo throughout my room are horrendous. But at least I have a friend with me.

————————————————————————

Today is my last day alive. I can feel it. its calling to me, the melody of death never ends after that last breath.

Someone knocks on the door

“Y/n?”

It’s Nadia, I have grown to love the sound of her voice calling to me for this past week.

She opens the door with a sad expression, “Lucio is here-“

I try to move my body up a bit from the excitement. I want to see him, I need to see him. But as soon as I try and sit up I start coughing violently, my lungs feel like their being boiled.

Nadia rushes to my side, “Please Y/n be carful, we don’t want you over doing yourself. We have yet to inform him of your state. We are trying to get his attention but he’s well.. you know how he is.”

I do know how he is. He is probably bragging to the fellow courtiers and the whole town about the things he has seen while he was gone. I wish he knew how urgent this is.

————————————————————————

My breathing is shallow and I can’t feel anything. Any moment now I will be gone. Lucio where are you?

Nadia had just left my room telling me a story about her sisters but she saw how tired I was and let me fall asleep.

I cant think straight anymore. It’s all so fuzzy.

I heard a large crash from my door but I barely have the strength to turn my head.

“Y/N!??”

I know that voice, it’s Lucio! My Lucio…

“Y/n??? Your sick? Oh please, tell me your joking.”

My back was slumped against the bed frame, I lifted my head just a bit to see him. He was frantic, his hair a mess.

“Lucio?” I croak, his eyes go wide and he looks almost petrified.

“Oh y/n please no no.” He rushed to my bed side and cupped my face looking at me straight in the eyes.

He muttered things like “this is all my fault” and “im sorry’s” but I didn’t care in the moment, he was here this is all that I need.

I steadily raised my arms to hold him and he looked shocked. He was crying, in the year we have been together he would never let me see him cry. Every time he would start he would go to another room or tell me to go away.

“Y/n please don’t go, we still have so much to do.” He puts his forehead to mine, I could heard him sobbing quietly.

“I love you…” he whispered.

My mind was put at ease. My heart fluttered at these words, as they have never been spoken before until now.

I want to say it back.

Come on y/n say it back use your throat.

All I could do was smile.

“Y/n I love you so much, more than anything I have ever loved before. So please, for me, for Noddy, please be strong stay alive.” He leans in for a soft kiss, I wish I had the strength to kiss back. He gently and steadily proceeds to kiss my cheeks, my nose, and finally my forehead. He holds me close, calloused hands holding me as if I am his most prized possession.

As much as I try to keep my eyelids open they softly come down leaving only the gloom darkness to envelope me and my body.

I am so happy I have gotten to know you Lucio Morgassson.

#lucio morgasson #lucio x mc #nadia satrinava #the arcana x reader #the plague #death mention #angst prompt #sickness #romantic #frienship #x reader

[dangermousie]

Probably skip this if you are loving the latest CFC stuff

Well, I read the edited mtl of 203 and I take it back - I do have feelings about He Yu. And they are summed up as:

I can’t believe XQC lost the full use of his arm and his eyesight in one eye for this human shaped piece of toxic waste. It would have been more productive to just wreck them for a piece of moldy bread.

Also, I am sorry, I cannot get XQC’s headspace - who the fuck emoes about He Yu banging someone else - like HE IS VIOLENTLY RAPING YOU why are you “boo hoo he didn’t stay exclusive” ARE YOU FROM MARS?! I have a terrifying premonition he won’t be angry just sad and like...

PS this is only the second danmei after Hua Hua You Long that broke my nope meter. I apparently have a hard line and using someone as a toilet is it. Sorry, if someone peed inside me during violent rape as a means of degradation and ownership, that person could then go on and save the universe and beg my forgiveness nonstop for a decade and hell, have a reasonable explanation that they were possessed by a ghost of Marquis de Sade and not in control of their body, and I still would only long for their death.

OK, I honestly think Meatbun has gone off the deep end. She always tapdanced the line of how much gonzo is too much very carefully but I think she’s finally crossed it for me. I think I’ve genuinely lost trust in her ability to either handle this or resolve it in a satisfying to me manner. I think it all amounts to the fact that no explanation and no expiation could ever satisfy me as a reader and make me be OK with either He Yu or the supposed main couple ever again. None. Because all I would do is flashback to this chapter and hit no-go. He Yu could have been tortured into violent insanity trying to protect XQC as an explanation for this unhinged behavior and die to save him as expiation and it would still not work for me. Nor could I ever buy XQC ending up with him at the end as a happy ending. If he is, if he forgives him and continues to love him and ends up with him, to me that is not a happy ending that is a sign of someone so broken they are better off dead (and yes that stands even if HY is brainwashed or whatever. Some things should not be gotten over.)

I am gonna keep up with this because I am morbidly curious if this trainwreck will turn onto an even bigger one and where it will go from here, and because I honestly enjoy rage-reading sometimes, but my expectations for this novel to be anything I could ever put on any favorite or even decent list are gone. This is a self-indulgent, god forsaken mess. Entertaining as hell in a way such messes often are and actually helps me through the days but my mind breaks to imagine the person who wrote 2ha and Yuwu wrote this messy mess.

#cnovel #meatbun doesn't eat meat #case file compendium #rant

[teletraan-meets-jarvis]

Monster - Part 1

AO3 Link

Characters: Commander Fox (Main), Captain Rex, Commander Thorn, Corrie Medic Triage (OC), Anakin Skywalker, Fives.

Summary: Fives' death through the eyes of Commander Fox.

Warnings: 16+, swearing, mentions of death.

Word Count: 1.6k

Click here for Part 2

Author’s Notes: First trip on the angst train folks. I've had this in my head for ages because I wanted to try something that wasn't relationship focused and I'm still not over this whole storyline with the chips, they were so darn close to exposing ol' sheev. Fox deserves some spotlight but i'm very sorry it had to be on this. I have got a part 2 practically written up already but wanted to test the waters with this bit first. Let me know what you think!! Fic below the cutoff :).

The title is from the song Monster by Starset. If you're after some good sci-fi related songs for the feels, Startset is where it's at.

Under the knife I surrendered The innocence yours to consume You cut it away And you filled me up with hate Into the silence you sent me Into the fire consumed You thought I'd forget But it's always in my head

Each step was quiet, calculated as CC-1010 moved into the storage bay. His men following his lead as they prepared to surround their target. General Skywalker was verbally defending the Chancellor from where he was captured in a ray shield. The target was unaware of their presence, time to move in.

Set to stun.

“Stand down, soldier! Get on your knees!” CC-1010 commanded, surrounded by his Shock Troopers. The target looked over at the unattended pistols. “Don’t do it solider.”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

“FIVES NO!”

Threat. Eliminate the threat.

Good soldiers, follow orders.

Set to Kill. CC-1010 never missed.

No.

Rex was screaming.

General Skywalker was ordering the Guard to lower the ray shields, not that CC-1010 could hear him over the ringing in his ears.

No.

The Captain was at his ARC-Trooper’s side, cradling his head. The blaster wound a disgusting contrast to the pure, shiny, white plastoid of his armour. The blaster wound that CC- no, that Fox inflicted.

No no no no no no.

The pistol fell from his hands and clattered to the ground as Fox came back to himself, the only sound which could be heard among the silence apart from Rex’s begging to Fives to stay with him.

Fox tore off his helmet. He couldn’t breathe. Fuck. The weight of what he just did crashed into him like a tsunami, threatening to take him down, tear him apart.

He stared at his gloved hands which shook uncontrollably. He tried to stop them but his brain didn’t have control of his body anymore. His men were looking at him, he could feel their gaze tearing into him like a jury to a defendant. Watching as their Commander fell apart.

He fell to his knees. No longer able to support his own body weight alongside the weight of his actions. He’d just killed another clone. One of his own vode. His own flesh and blood. That’d never happened before. Sure there had been traitors before among the clone ranks, but they’d never been executed on site. They’d never been pursued by Fox. Lucky them.

The chancellors’ orders echoed in his ears. “Eliminate the threat, Commander.”

Not bring him in for questioning. Eliminate him. No court hearing, no hearing Fives’ side like Slick and others before him. Just execution. And Fox was his executioner. Fuck he was going to vomit.

“Rex” Fox didn’t realise he was speaking until Rex’s eyes met his over Fives’ lifeless body, which he continued to cradle like his last hopes in this war.

Rex’s eyes were cold as ice, the power behind them attempting to freeze Fox to his very core. He didn’t blame him.

The heartbreak at losing another member of Torrent Company cracking the Captain’s usually unshakeable composure. As it fell apart piece by piece in front of Fox’s eyes, he was left staring at his little brother. His Rex’ika. Distraught, heartbroken, empty. He wanted nothing more than to protect him like back on Kamino, when Rex was a young cadet who feared the thunderstorms of their home planet. But Fox couldn’t protect Rex from this, Fox was the reason behind his brother’s agony, his loss. Fox was the monster.

“I-…” he couldn’t get the words out. He couldn’t explain himself. What could he say? I didn’t have a choice, I had to follow orders? That wasn’t going to fix the hole left in Rex’s heart. For losing Fives and for losing Fox too, because the Commander was sure he was dead to him.

Rex finally pulled his eyes away and it broke Fox’s heart. The Captain looked back down at his friend in his arms, his brother. He brought his forehead forward as he raised Fives’s, meeting him in one final Keldabe as he recited the Mando’a that had become far too familiar for them all. Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la. He cradled Fives close to his chest and hooked a hand under his legs as he got to his feet.

Rex’s face was stony, emotionless as he carried his fallen brother out of the storage bay. He held himself together as he brushed past the helmet-less Shock Troopers who stood stock still around their shaken Commander. He didn’t even spare Fox a glance. General Skywalker was hot on his Captain’s heels, going to offer support where he could. Just like that they were gone.

“Sir-“ one of the troopers went to place a hand on his Commander’s shoulder.

“Tell the Chancellor it’s done” Fox snapped out, the words tasting like bitter bile in his mouth. He did his best to regain himself as he grabbed his bucket, re-securing it and his emotions behind as strong a wall as he could fortify in his current state. Still shaking hands clasped around the dropped blaster and Fox finally returned to his feet, slightly unsteady.

“Return to base” his orders were flat as they came through the helmet. His soldiers didn’t react for a moment. He looked each of his men over, their shock at watching what happened bared to the world on their faces. He couldn’t take it. “Now.” Finally they nodded and made the move to leave the Gods-forsaken place.

Everything was a blur; people, places, all fading into nothingness behind Fox as he paced back to his office. His safe space. His feet carried him while his mind drifted, almost leaving his body in an attempt to protect himself from the internal horrors that threatened his grasp on reality.

Next he knew he was back in his office, no idea what route he’d taken to get there. The door had barely shut behind him before he stumbled to the small refresher attached and vomited. Choked sobs wracked his body as he emptied his stomach, tears creating salty tracks down his cheeks.

Once his body stopped torturing him, he finally backed away from the toilet and crawled to lean against the ‘fresher wall. His legs sprawled out in front of him as he threw his head back against the cool tiles. The sharp pain from the action doing nothing to bring him back, to distract him from the agony in his mind.

————

“Fox, Fox!! It’s Thorn, are you there?” The heavy gunner shouted from outside, his fists banging on the door demanding entry.

Nothing.

Thorn had heard what had happened, half the Guard already knew by now. Fox had been ordered to execute another clone by the Chancellor. As soon as the confirmation reached his ears, the Commander dropped everything to find his superior. He’d been friends with Fox long enough to know when he was nearing his breaking point, and he knew that this would throw him off the edge of his sanity.

“Kriff, Fox. I’m coming in!” He announced before punching the code in and rushing in to find his friend.

What Thorn found wasn’t pretty. Fox was propped up against the fresher wall, his head covered in a thin sheen of sweat, his amber eyes glassed over as he sobbed. He looked absolutely wrecked.

Thorn dropped to his side and took hold of his hands in an attempt to ground his friend. “Fox, hey Fox, can you hear me?”

Nothing.

“I heard what happened. I need you to come back to us, yeah. Maker, we need you Fox.” That got his attention, Fox’s watery eyes met his, but the Commander wasn’t fully present behind them yet.

“It wasn’t me” Fox choked out in barely a whisper, tears flowing freely again. Thorn moved forward and pulled the Commander into his arms, their armour fitting awkwardly against one another but it was enough. The broken man clung to his brother as he continued to repeat his words in a tear filled mantra against Thorn’s armour.

After what felt like forever, the shudders that tore through Fox’s body eventually died down to something more manageable. Thorn took that as his moment to try and get his Commander sat up again, maybe even get some water in him. He began to pull away slightly so he could look him in the eyes but as soon as he did, Fox started babbling again. At least it was a few more words than before.

“I set the gun to stun, I swear. I don’t know what happened. Once I saw Fives, everything went dark.” He tried to explain with as much coherence as he could. “They’ll never forgive me for this.” Thorn knew who he was talking about, his batch mates. Cody, Wolffe, Bly, Ponds and Gree. Fox had felt that their relationship was strained ever since he joined the Guard and his brothers went out to fight on the front lines. He’d become the cold leader of the Coruscant Elite Guard, he had the ‘cushy desk job’ while they had to watch their men die day in and day out on the battlefield. The sad truth was that they’d never understand the things the Guard had to go through each day. One night after a particularly tough day, he’d listened as Fox admitted that he wished he could provide his men with honourable deaths in battle to save them from their fates within the Guard.

Thorn’s chest felt like a vice as he cradled his friend, trying to absorb some of his pain as if it would help make things a bit easier on him. He’d never seen Fox like this and it was killing him. Why did the Chancellor always place the worst jobs on the Commander, why did he have to keep him so close, right under his thumb ready to make him do the dirty work. Never thinking about the aftermath, because the clones didn’t matter. So long as Fox kept showing up and performing admirably on the surface, the day to day pain and suffering wasn’t of concern to the Republic, least of all to the Grand Chancellor.

“Fox, I’m going to call Triage alright? He’ll know what to do.” Thorn announced softly, not getting much of an acknowledgment for his words as Fox started to drift off in his arms, his body’s exhaustion overtaking him for a blissful moment.

Continue to Part 2

Back to Masterlist

#commander fox #commander thorn #captain rex #fives #anakin skywalker #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #clone wars fanfic #clone wars fic #arc trooper fives #clone wars season 6 #i love you fives #it's still not fair #i will probs write a mini fix it one of these days #coruscant #coruscant guard #corrie guard

[nobody0805]

Tamaki amajiki x Reader

Warnings: angst

Kidnapped

It was dark. Too dark to see anything.

The high beeping sound that seemed to come out of everywhere slowly driving him insane.

He felt so weak

How long has he been here?

He didn’t know.

At this point, he wasn’t able to tell what day, or even month, it was.

It just all felt the same.

He has been in this god forsaken room so long that his sense of smell had given up, his eyes had tried to adjust to the lack of light but failed.

The only thing he could focus on was how cold the room was and how annoying and nerve wrecking that beeping sound was.

—————————

”(y/n), I know you want to find him. Hell, we all want to. But it’s been a month without a lead. Please. You have to accept that he might be dead.“

You couldn’t believe that Mirio, his best friend of all people, was telling you this.

Tearing up at the thought of losing him, you answered with rage, fear and sadness evident in your voice and eyes

"I know. God damnit of course I know! But I don’t want to give up okay?! We will find him! We have to find him! H-he believes in us and I won’t let him down... I can’t let him down...“

Mirio noticed how shaken up you were.

Everyone could see how bad you were doing.

Big, dark circles under your eyes. Evident loss of weight. Hair that looked more and more like you couldn’t care less. The same clothes you wore last week. Chewed fingernails.

You were struggling not to give up.

You couldn’t, right?

Tamaki wouldn’t want you to give up.

Right?

But

What if you would?

Would he be mad?

Mad at you for accepting that he might be dead?

Mad at you for leaving him alone wherever he might be?

Without you noticing, you had started to cry.

Mirio noticed it of course and hugged you, telling you it’s okay and whatever you want to do, continue searching or giving up, no one would blame you. Not even Tamaki.

”(h/n)-san! Lemillion-san! We got something!“

—————————

The sudden light in the otherwise dark room blinded him.

His eyes were hurting, trying to adjust to the suddenly bright room.

In front of him was a figure.

A man.

Wearing black and holding something in his hands.

”Suneater. Have you decided to join us yet? Or do you need more time to think.“

Tamaki’s eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness. The first thing he really saw was a smirk on the mans face.

The same man that had kidnapped him on his way home after a long day of work.

When Tamaki spoke, his voice was hoarse and broken. His throat hurt, he hadn’t talked in days.

”I won’t join you. Try what you want but I won’t be joining you. I’m not a villain. The heroes will find me and get me out of here. And then your cute little organisation will fall apart.“

”try what you want, huh? Sounds good to me.“

The man crouched down in front of Tamaki, looking him right in the eyes.

”you know, you’ve been here for a month. The heroes probably gave up searching“

Tamaki was shocked.

A month?

He has been here for a month?

”a-a month...“

”yes that’s right suneater, you’ve been here for a month and your hero friends have yet to find you. They probably didn’t even start searching.“

Tamaki shook his head.

That couldn’t be.

The other heroes...

They had to be searching for him...

Right?

You... you had to be searching for him...

Right...?

”That lovely partner of yours seems to be enjoying their time without you. I’ve seen them. Smiling brightly, hanging around that Lemillion hero.“

”y-you’re lying...“

”why would I lie to you? I’m trying to be your friend here. I want you to join me. They have given you up. Your partner found someone else. Your so called friends won’t be searching for you anymore. Join me and you’ll get to have them pay for leaving you.“

That can’t be right...

Tamaki’s thoughts ran a mile a minute, trying to give him every possibility and trying to find out if that man, that villain in front of him, was telling the truth.

”I’ll let you think about it Suneater. Before I go, you should eat something...“

The man placed a bowl of rice in front of Tamaki.

Something that wouldn’t help him escape if he used his quirk...

Tamaki’s hands weren’t tied together. The man had freed his hands after two weeks of not giving Tamaki any food, just to make sure he couldn’t use his quirk anymore.

When the man left, he turned the lights off again. Tamaki was left with silence.

”h-he has to be lying... p-please...“

—————————

”everyone, you all know we’ve been searching for Suneater for the last month. And I know some of you think it’s best if we stop now and announce his death...“

You saw the heroes that were friends with Tamaki looking around for someone that thought like that.

”but please, listen to what we have to say. FatGum? Would you like to explain?“

FatGum stood up and walked to the front where everyone could see him

”you all know we’ve been finding nothing for the past month. So I’m happy to tell you we’ve got a lead now.“

The relieved breaths you heard coming from your friends made you happy. They hadn’t give up yet.

”a civilian told us they saw Suneater in normal clothes, probably on his way home. A man wearing all black with light grey hair was following him. The civilian said Suneater didn’t notice the man and later heard a muffled sound. They were able to give a description of the man and with that we found him.“

FatGum pressed a button and a picture of the man the civilian saw appeared.

”this is Kuro Inu. He is known as the villain shadow. His quirk is called blackhound. He can summon shadow dogs that will fight for him. And this,“

The picture on the board changed to a map and a picture of an old house

”is where he lives.“

”you don’t think he is keeping Suneater in his own house, right?“

”his house has a cellar and is secluded from the city. It’s probably the best place for him to keep suneater.“

”that’s enough for me.“ you started, ”when are we going?“

”30 minutes. Be ready by then you all.“

—————————

The police had a warrant to go in there. And with the possibility of Tamaki being kept in there, you all had a good reason to break the door and search for him.

And that was what you did.

The police broke down the door and you heroes ran in.

”we’ll split up. FatGum, (h/n), cover That Part of the house!“

You did as you were told and walked to the back of the house.

There was a staircase that led down to a cellar.

”fat, I’m going down.“

With that, you ran down the stairs.

The cellar was dark.

Then you heard a sound.

It sounded like

”growling? Shit, blackhound!“

You felt the shadow dogs jumping at you

”get off of me!“

Using your quirk, light, you defeated the dogs with ease. They got their strength from the dark so you illuminated the room.

”T-Tamaki!“

There he was, on the floor.

With Kuro Ino holding a knife to his neck.

”come one step closer and I’ll kill him, hero.“

'One step closer huh? I don’t have to move for this.‘

Using your quirk, you blinded Kuro who dropped the knife and fell back a bit.

You rushed towards him, holding him down.

”FatGum! Help me down here!“

FatGum rushed into the cellar, policemen behind him, and helped you with the villain.

Once the villain was off of your hands, you freed Tamaki from his bindings, who was crying of relief.

”I’m so glad that you’re safe! I’m so sorry that we didn’t find you sooner!“

He was crying, relieved that you finally found him.

Relieved that he could leave this hellish room and try to forget this ever happened.

Relieved that you didn’t give up. That you still believed he was alive and worth searching for.

He was relieved that the villain had lied to him.

#amajiki x reader #suneater #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki x reader #suneater x reader #amajiki-x-reader #amajiki tamaki #mha amajiki #bnha tamaki #bnha amajiki #mha tamaki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #amajiki tamaki x reader #tamaki amakiji

[darlinrogue]

“ sometimes i realize one day i could die, i could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. there’d be no one to miss me and that terrifies me more than death itself. ” — kenny @ adam!

It’s All Down Hill From Here Ya’ll

Adam and Kenny || @ofgrief

Adam woke-up with the hangover of a lifetime. A whole ass construction crew wedged inside his cranium going to demolition town. Big, sweaty, muscly guys with jackhammers, wrecking balls, and heavy machinery. For some stupid reason he left the curtain open last night. Morning light spilled into the room and stabbed his eyeballs with serrated knives. Adam groaned and rolled over. He pressed his face into the pillow. His body ached, his head hurt, he was nauseous, and he kinda had to pee— shit, he hadn’t woken-up like this in a minute. Someone needed to shut-up their phone, the incessant chiming was getting on his last nerve. Then it hit him. That was his phone and his alarm going off at God’s forsaken hour of six-thirty. 

Adam slapped at the nightstand. He smacked the shit out of the alarm clock and knocked his car keys to the floor, no phone. Adam weathered the agony of lifting his head-up enough to look and hear the blasted thing beneath him. He slid halfway out of the bed and clawed at the floor beneath the headboard. Then, bingo, his hand closed around the phone and he pressed the power button to shut it up. With most of his upper body hanging off the mattress, Adam crumpled to the floor. His calves tangled with the blankets and he dragged the sheets clean off the bed with him. Flopped against the carpet, he massaged the bridge of his nose. There was a black hairband around his wrist and he had no clue where it came from. Adam yanked back his tangled, frizzy hair into a ponytail to get it out of his eyes. He laid there, blithe and numb, letting incoherent thoughts skim the surface of his consciousness. Bit-by-bit, Adam reconstructed the past twenty-four hours and it was enough to make him laugh. 

Damn, he was good.  

Eager to bask in a rare accomplishment, Adam turned his attention to his phone. He blinked and wiped the grit from his eyes as the screen flicked to life. He had one text message in his notifications. Kenny Omega, at a little past midnight texted him: [Wanna hang out?]

Adam let that time bomb tick as he unlocked his phone and checked Twitter instead. He searched Matt Hardy and perused the iconic’s Twitter feed. Another grin cracked Adam’s face down the middle. Hardy had no idea. That little task of self aggrandization done, Adam opened the messaging app. He stared at the screen and the little bubble of text from Kenny. Absent-minded, Adam reached down and yanked his belt off— only now realizing he never took it off. Then he answered Kenny’s question with a question.

[Got anything in mind?]

He paused, tongue running over his lips. Then, he untangled his legs from the sheets and blankets. Adam pushed to his feet and stumbled across the room to his bag on the desk. Inside he found Advil and a flask of whiskey. He washed the pain medicine down with a generous swig of alcohol. Adam coughed, beating on his chest to clear his dry throat. On the way to the bathroom he stripped out of his jeans. While brushing his teeth, his phone chimed. Adam spat into the sink and leaned over to read Kenny’s reply.

[My place. Dinner at six?] 

Okay, so that wasn’t ‘hanging-out.’ In Adam’s book, ‘hanging-out’ with Kenny was playing video games or going to an arcade. Maybe they’d work-out, train and drill in the ring, sit around the hotel room and watch movies. All the little things they did as a tag-team to kill time on the road or between matches. What Kenny proposed sounded like a —dare Adam say it— a date. Like two adults, sitting down over a candle-lit table, and talking about serious things for a couple of hours. Which, it was Kenny, so not a big deal, but at the same time, it was Kenny, which was a big deal. 

Since, November their relationship had been stuck in this weird, strange, gray, Twilight-Zone that was neither friendship or anything else. Cuddling in bed or on a couch, flirting, lingering too close, heady with physical desire, and softened by intimacy. Stablemates were always close, stuck on buses and planes for hours together enforced liking someone. Kenny and Adam had seen each other at the worst, at their best. This thing went beyond that. They were friends, tag-partners for a period, all they had left, and yet, nothing at all. Adam could ask Kenny: ‘What the fuck are we?’ If he thought he’d get a straight answer.

Unwilling to unpack all that, Adam dressed to work-out. He left his hotel room and started down the stairs to the lobby. He thought about dinner at six. Today’s original plan was to drive seven hours back to North Carolina, shooting straight-up I-95 along the coast. If Adam left after breakfast he’d be back in the afternoon. Staying another evening in Jacksonville wasn’t a big deal. Such were the benefits of a lonely bachelor life. A neighborhood girl usually took care of Adam’s dogs on Wednesdays. He could call her, offer a generous tip, and get another night. Around the sixth floor landing, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and gave Kenny his answer. 

[Sure, I’ll bring milk and beer. Give me your address.]

Down in the hotel gym he started his work-out, running through reps with almost memorized, mechanical ease. While Adam counted bicep curls, his phone chimed and he glanced at it long enough to see that Kenny had sent the address. Between sets, Adam popped the address into Google Maps. The house was a little over a half-hour drive away on Pointe Verde Beach, just outside of Jacksonville. Strange, because Adam had no memory of Kenny owning a house in or around Jacksonville. He heard whisper of a house near Orlando. He was vaguely aware that Kenny had stayed with Callis or Nakazawa a few times. Adam shuffled this mystery home off as another thing he just didn��t know about Kenny. He finished his work-out on the treadmill, running until endorphins blasted Kenny and the last of the hang-over from his brain. Adam returned to his hotel room to shower. 

While hot water rolled down his back and he scrubbed conditioner from his hair, Adam wondered after Kenny’s ulterior motives. Back in December Kenny made it clear what he wanted from Adam: sex. That wasn’t Adam’s own ego talking, that was straight out of the horse’s mouth. Kenny had said he wanted Adam to kiss him, touch him, and fuck him. That was what he said, almost verbatim. Adam was an adult. He spent a significant chunk of his twenties sexually active. He wasn’t shy or prudish, he had no hang-ups. He could do all the things Kenny wanted. Hell, he’d gladly do them, under the right circumstances. Provided Adam could negotiate the differences between male and female anatomy with any competence. Physical desire was absolutely a dimension of his attraction to Kenny. Except, he wasn’t sure if this was the right circumstances. The thought that Kenny was inviting Adam over to dinner for the sole purpose of propositioning him for sex, turned Adam’s stomach over. He cranked the water cold and sobered beneath the icy spray, jaw tight. He turned off the water and toweled off. Adam texted Kenny again. 

[Nak’s not going to be there, is he?]

Two seconds later, Kenny replied: 

[Nope, just us.]

And to keep some kinda banter, Adam texted him back, hoping that the words read as teasing.

[No Callis, either?]

[lmao no he’s in Tennessee doing Impact crap for the PPV. He left this morning.]

And Adam hadn’t felt this nervous about being alone with Kenny since the first time they played Mario Tennis with Chase Owens. Because shit, he’d been stringing Kenny along for months now. Sure, Callis had been a consistent cock block, but Adam wouldn’t pretend he and Kenny weren’t playing some kinda game. A no-rules, Calvinball-Esque, game with moving goalposts. There were no boundaries because Kenny and Adam never set any. That would imply proper and honest communication. All of it was impromptu and they were living on a prayer that neither of them stepped on any toes. In a way, Daily’s place was a blessing. The presence of others acted as a natural check-and-balance on Kenny and Adam’s weird dynamic. So long as they didn't talk about it, didn't acknowledge the elephant in the room, everything was fine. An evening alone felt like cutting the breaks. It wasn’t that Adam feared having sex with Kenny or Kenny outright trying to jump his bones. It wasn’t that he didn’t want that, or that he hadn’t thought about it. 

It was just that he wanted more.

Call him a sap, but Adam loved Kenny and he wanted Kenny to love him too. He wanted to go on dates. He wanted to wake-up in the same bed in the morning and to kiss Kenny awake. He wanted the small pleasure of fixing breakfast for both of them. Even to do the dishes together and all the boring domestic tasks of day-to-day life. To talk about how their days went but also to exist in quiet intimacy. He wanted to walk down the street holding Kenny’s hand. To drop casually in conversations, “My boyfriend Kenny—” To argue, make-up, and do better next time, all of it. And they were so off the rails because Adam was afraid that saying ‘no’ to Kenny in any capacity would kill what little they had. The what-ifs piled in Adam’s brain. Kenny using him for sex and then never talking to him again. Kenny telling him off for introducing more emotion that was necessary to a physical relationship. Kenny letting Adam know that he had finally moved on from his hot cowboy tag-partner and he won’t be needed anymore. The moment Kenny figured-out that he wasn’t going to get what he wanted from Adam— was the moment Adam lost him. 

Adam ate breakfast at the hotel hot bar. He had yogurt, an orange, eggs, and some links of sausage. He arranged for an extra night at the hotel and texted the girl who took care of his dogs. Then he got hustled by said teenager for almost twice the usual rate because she had, ‘lots of homework.’ Adam couldn’t complain because he was honestly kinda proud. She’d make a great carny one day. With not much else to do in Jacksonville, he left the hotel to go shopping. Adam had only packed for one night and not for a maybe-date with Kenny. He bought a white button down at a clothing store. Then, stopped by an uptown grocery store to buy 2% milk and local IPAs. Adam spent about three minutes lingering by a display of pre-arranged bouquets at the store, wondering if flowers would be too much. He walked away from the display, walked back, almost walked away again, stopped, and then stared a little longer. His hand fluttered by his side and before he could stop himself, Adam grabbed a bouquet of yellow flowers. Shit, he was an idiot. 

He thought, as the cashier rang him up, that Kenny was going to laugh at him. 

He took a lunch break at a small Mexican hole-in-the-wall because his diet was shot to hell today and he’d just have to admit it. Back at the hotel, he did his second work-out, showered again, and then realized he had three whole hours to kill. Three hours to get dressed, fuss over his hair, sit around, stare at the dumb flowers he bought, and consider if waterboarding would be a more or less effective form of torture. He scrolled Twitter, did some Duolingo. His body was tense, a live wire, his heart pounding. Adam left thirty minutes early and so took a twenty-minute detour, just to kill time. All so he wouldn’t look like a complete, desperate dweeb— showing-up early and with flowers? That would be way too much. 

The house was situated in an upscale, rich and retired, suburb nestled by the ocean. It was smaller, blander than the two, three story beach homes that towered around it, with their sparse lawns and obnoxious, pastel colors. It was a one-story, Spanish-style home with a brown roof and off-white siding. Palm trees and shaped topiary decorated the well-tended front yard. The sun back dropped the city to the West, burning gold. The angles of light painted the thin, sparse clouds pink, purple, and orange creamsicle. Adam parked in the driveway in front of the garage. He stepped out of his car and the wind, tasting of salt, pulled at his hair. Between the neighbor’s fence and the sand dunes, he caught sight of the Atlantic. The waves rolled and churned, edged by white foam-like lace. Adam walked around to the other side of the car. On the floorboards were the milk and beer, and on the passenger seat were the flowers. His hands trembled and his heart thudded against his chest like a hammer. Do or die, he had to commit now— fuck it, life was short and that bouquet was like twenty bucks. He tucked the beers under his arm, picked-up the milk in one hand, and the flowers in the other, 

Adam walked up to the front porch and used his elbow to ring the bell. Before Adam even retracted his hand, the door opened. Kenny stood on the other side of the threshold. His hair was yanked back into a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. Flour dusted his pink t-shirt across the chest. Adam’s eyes drifted down to khaki shorts and the loafers he wore without any socks. For a brief second, Kenny stared at Adam, also giving him a once-over. Adam hesitated, trying to decide if he should give Kenny the flowers or put something down to offer a handshake— like a dork. He managed neither before Kenny cussed. 

“Son of a bitch, you dressed nice, shit, stay there.” Kenny pointed at Adam to indicate where he should 'stay.' Then, Kenny vanished into the house, leaving the door ajar. Adam gaped, brow furrowed and blinking like an owl. A Gregorian choir in his brain chanted, ‘dork, dork, massive dork!’ 

Kenny hadn’t come back by the time Adam processed his absence. So, he took the first step over the threshold. “Uh, Kenny? I’m coming in?” Adam called, to no reply. 

The inside of the house had a blandly typical beach house vibe. White walls, seashell decor, stock paintings of the ocean, and blue accents. There was a wood sign on the entry hall wall that read: Happiness comes in waves. To his left was the kitchen, a large space, with expansive white countertops and black appliances. There were a few bowls and dishes left out, with signs of being used. The sink was to put it lightly, a wreck, filled with utensils, cutting boards, and knives. Adam put the milk and beer in the fridge. Then noted that the dining room table was set. Each place had a gleaming crimson plate. No forks or knives, just chopsticks. A drinking glass for water. Kenny even had even folded the cloth napkins. All set on a black placemat. Adam wandered on into the rest of the house in search of Kenny. Connected to the dining room was the living room. Tall windows on the East wall allowed an expansive view over the pool, yard, and ocean. The sliding glass back door had been left cracked, to allow the cool and brisk breeze in. Adam pushed his hands into his pockets and soaked in the ocean at sunset. 

Footsteps echoed down the far hall. Kenny passed the living room doorway, on the way to the kitchen. He caught Adam out of the corner of his eye and pulled back, changing direction at the last second. Kenny smiled and spread his arms wide so Adam could admire new outfit. He’d changed into dark jeans, a red v-neck, and a black blazer. Still in the loafers, Adam noted, but that was just part of the Kenny charm. 

“Better, right?” Kenny asked. He did a full turnaround and then jaunted over to Adam. He smoothed the lapel of his blazer down. “I didn’t give you a dress code, so I packed something nice to wear just in case. Didn’t wanna feel awkward in khakis, ya know?”

“Yeah, you look good,” Adam agreed, returning Kenny’s grin. They diverted their gaze to the floor together. Adam, trying to find something to say, exaggerated a  look around the house. “Is this your uh, home?”

“Nope! I rented it on Air BnB,” Kenny said, proudly. “I’ve never used the app before, but it found this pretty sweet crib, so I’m impressed. A little pricey maybe, but for an evening, just for us? Worth it, I’d say.”

Adam heard Kenny but he couldn’t think of a response. It hit him that the food on the counter, the set table, the entire house, pointed-to one thing. Kenny had planned this. He had to look for a house, find one, pay for it, plan a menu, buy food, bring tableware, find time. He had planned this at personal expense. He had put real thought into setting-up a dinner for him and Adam.  This wasn’t some off-the-cuff idea. The only improvised part about this was inviting Adam himself. And to think, Adam thought Kenny only wanted to Netflix and chill. 

“I, uh, I got you these,” Adam stammered. He held out the flowers to Kenny. “Just, a housewarming, gift, I guess for — for you.”

“Oh, you did, thank you, Cowboy,” Kenny smiled, he took the bouquet from Adam. He hesitated, awkwardly gripping the plastic casing of the flowers. 

“I guess, you can put it in some water?” Adam suggested. He scratched at the back of his head. 

“Yeah, right, good idea,” Kenny nodded, he stepped back from Adam, lingered for a second, and then headed to the kitchen. 

Adam followed Kenny and while Kenny tore through the cabinets in search of a vase, Adam took a second look. Beside the stove were three white bowls with flour, eggs, and panko crumbs. On the burner sat a large, cast-iron pot filled several inches deep with cooking oil. A thermometer rested beside the burner. Kenny exclaimed, “ah-ha,” When he came up with a vase. He filled it with water and settled the flowers in. Brow furrowed he poked a couple daisies upright. Kenny set the vase with the flowers in the middle of the table, as an impromptu centerpiece.

“There, that livens-up the place,” Kenny said, putting his hands on his hips. He smiled at Adam and the ocean, through the windows behind him, framed his face. His eyes bluer than the sea and Adam only just noticed he didn’t have his glasses on. Instead, the glasses were hooked in the pocket of his blazer. Adam was invited here, talking with Kenny, about to have dinner, and his trepidation only grew.

“Is this all for us?” Adam asked, he leaned against the kitchen doorway and shoved his hand in his pocket. With his other he gestured broadly at everything. 

“Yeah, I thought it would be nice?” Kenny admitted, it was his turn to shrug. “Just us, for once. We haven't gotten to spend a lot of time together recently and there's some, some things I wanted to talk to you about. Stuff that's— that's better here maybe than at Daily’s Place. Is it too much?”

Kenny looked bashful, his smile soft, peering at Adam, his hand working over the back of a chair. It was nervous and sweet, open in a way that Adam hadn’t seen in months. Words were hard, but pushing off the doorpost and walking over to Kenny was easier. For a second, Adam’s hands hovered between them, and then he hooked his fingers beneath Kenny’s lapel. Kenny giggled and rested his forehead against Adam’s, his breath tickling Adam’s bottom lip. 

“It’s perfect,” Adam murmured. He untangled from Kenny’s jacket and slid his hands down Kenny’s sides until Adam held his hips. Adam pushed his palms against the jut of Kenny's bone, “What's for dinner, chef Kenny?”

Kenny giggled and gripped at Adam’s hands. “Well, I was thinking,” he glanced back at the kitchen, “I’d make us Tonkatsu, you know, those pork cutlets you get in Japan, with the breading and cabbage? I haven’t had any in a while and it’s one of my favorite dishes. And I ordered sushi, and dessert, from a couple local places—”

“So, you’re cooking?” Adam asked, he quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, what’s so bad about that? I can cook,” Kenny protested. He pulled back from Adam and moved into the kitchen. Adam returned to his position by the doorpost as Kenny rummaged in the fridge. He pulled-out a bag of plastic boxes and then a platter of salted pork. Kenny rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid I’ll burn it? I promise only a little singe, for flavor. I mean it’s Tonkatsu, grade school children can make it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Adam laughed, he lifted his hands to placate Kenny. “It’s just, you never hit me as the cooking type. Order in and dine-out always seemed more your style.”

Kenny stuck his tongue out at Adam. He laughed though and turned the stove on to heat the oil. The plastic bag crinkled as Kenny sorted through small platters of elegant sushi and laid each on the counter. “We can eat this while the oil heats. I wish I had a nicer serving tray but I didn’t think to bring one, and this house doesn’t have one— I looked. Oh, and I don’t know how you feel about it, but I got some sake too. It’s in the fridge. Do you like it hot? I’ve never had it, so, I don’t know what’s better.”

“Man, I don’t even know,” Adam said. He never liked the flavor of sake —too dry for his taste— so he’d let the discussion drop and hope that was better than rejecting Kenny’s offer. Adam walked over to help Kenny carry the sushi to the table. “I got you milk, though, two percent. I uh— put it in the fridge.”

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kenny smiled.  

While Kenny removed the covers from the sushi, Adam fetched his meager contributions to the meal. He returned with the gallon of milk and an IPA. Adam poured Kenny a tall glass of milk and Kenny poured Adam’s beer. Teeth buried in his bottom lip, like this task was monumental, Kenny dumped the bottle into the glass. By the time the bubbles fizzed down, Adam’s ‘beer’ was mostly air. It was the thought that counted and Kenny looked pleased. Before sitting down himself, Kenny pulled-out Adam’s chair for him. Adam muttered his thanks and sat down. Kenny took his place on the opposite side of the table and used his chopsticks to divvy up the sushi pieces between them. 

“Where’d you get this?” Adam asked. 

“Sushiko, a small place by the river, Cody recommended it,” Kenny said. “It’s a nice little restaurant and we’re by the coast so the seafood is fresh. I mean it’s not really, authentic, but that’s hard to get in America anyway.”

“Yeah, but it’ll be good,” Adam countered. “Do you want the ginger?”

“Nah, you can have it,” Kenny said, to punctuate his point he picked up a heap of the ginger and plopped it onto Adam’s plate. “Do you remember how to use the chopsticks? It hasn’t been that long since you were last in Japan, right?”

“I order take-out once a month to keep my skills sharp,” Adam promised. He picked-up the chopsticks by his plate. Then, took the ends and stuck them beneath his top lip like a walrus, “Goes like this right?”

Kenny laughed, hand lifting to cover his mouth as his shoulders shook with racks of giggles. Adam smiled and wiped off his chopsticks with his napkin. It was the kinda joke he’d crack when he was ten, on the rare occasion his parents took the family out to eat. His sister would find it hilarious, his father and mother less so. Yet, it seemed to amuse Kenny to no end, and all that bashful shyness was gone when the laughter subsided. 

“Yeah, close enough,” Kenny said, waving his hand. “Here you should try the tempura roll, it’s my favorite of all the inaccurate American sushis.”

Kenny picked up a piece of sushi with his chopsticks and offered it over the table for Adam to try. Adam didn’t point out that he already had a piece of that type on his plate. He only leaned forward and opened his mouth so Kenny could feed him the sushi. Adam bit down and savored the taste of shrimp, rice, and crunchy breading. 

“It’s good,” he said, nodding and humming his approval.

“Isn’t it?” Kenny asked, he jammed a roll with avocado in his mouth and grinned, pleased. “It’s kinda cliché, but I love this stuff.” 

Adam took a sip from his beer to wash down the rice gummed behind his teeth.

“I’ve always meant to ask,” Kenny said, he pointed with his chopsticks at the beer. “Do you... like that stuff?”

“Beer? Yeah, pretty well, it’s not my favorite drink,” Adam admitted. He ate another piece of sushi and chewed through his thoughts. “It has to be a good beer, the cheap crap isn’t worth the calories. Pleases the hell out of a crowd though.”

“Yeah, don’t you have to drive back?” Kenny’s brow furrowed. 

Adam laughed, “A beer or two isn’t going to send me over, Kenny. It's not like liquor, it's a much lower alcohol content. I probably won't even feel the buzz, especially drinking on food. By the time I leave, I'll be close to zero. I try to keep track of my limits these days, and you know, it’s hard to be no carb and take shots.”

“Trainers got you on no carb?” Kenny asked, with a lifted brow. It was a quick change of topic and Adam appreciated the tact. 

“Yeah, have been for a while now, it’s probably better that way,” Adam shrugged. “You know not all of us shred fat like you.”

“Well, that’s not so easy these days,” Kenny admitted. “Not all of us are as young as you.”

“Hey, a few months and I’ll be thirty,” Adam pointed-out. “Or like, twenty-four by Cody’s metric, something like that.”

“You can’t say that being youngest wasn’t a good shake,” Kenny said. “You never had to pay for anything.”

“Just all the ribbing,” Adam grinned.

Adam popped some ginger in his mouth and waggled his eyebrows for emphasis. Kenny was all grins and the smiles were a relief. This wasn’t a total cluster fuck and Adam hadn’t said something to screw-up the mood. This was going much better than his anxiety allowed him to anticipate. A pause to eat lulled the conversation to a brief silence. Yet, Adam could tell by the way Kenny studied his Philadelphia roll, there was something on his mind. 

“So, uh, last night,” Kenny said, he placed his elbow on the table. “Did you sign a contract with Matt Hardy? Did I interpret that segment correctly? I was preparing for my match so I wasn’t really paying attention, but—”

Adam paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, and then he grinned. “I did.”

“Did you read that contract?” Kenny probed. “Listen, I know you and Hardy go back but I’m not sure you should trust that guy, Page. He’s a bit of a carny— I mean his gimmick is ‘Big Money Matt.’ That has got to be a warning sign. I know Matt and Nick brought him in by burying his vessel or whatever, but he’s changed a lot since the Stadium Stampede. He’s got the whole, I guess split personality thing going on?”

“Oh, I read the contract I signed,” Adam nodded. He savored the taste of a Dragon roll, fishy and popping with acidity. “Hardy didn’t, but I did.”

“Oh, really,” Kenny waxed, he pressed his finger tips to his chin. “Something you wanna fill me in on?”

“Yeah, I switched the contracts,” Adam said. 

Kenny gasped, “You switched the contracts?! Oh, ho, Page, I knew you were smart, brilliant, tell me everything.”

“Well, I knew he was going to invite me to a bar, because he said so on Twitter,” Adam began. “Like, you said, I’ve known Matt for a while and he’s always been a dick. He was talking all about how I’m going to be some great star or the ‘top guy’ in AEW, or whatever, some bullshit, but I kinda figured his plan was to get me drunk and willing to sign something stupid.”

He leaned back in his chair, sipping on his beer and thinking. Adam couldn’t get why every other manager in AEW was salivating at the idea of getting him on their payroll. The Dark Order was trying to recruit him. Taz was talking about him. Matt Hardy seemed to think Adam was the second coming of Jesus. Adam assumed that he was so sought after because the actual best wrestler in AEW was already spoken-for. And Jon Moxley wasn’t the type to tolerate companionship. So, that left Adam Page. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel. 

“So, I uh, had a little something prepared for him,” Adam shrugged. “I don’t think he’s figured it out yet, so like, don’t go spreading it around? Snitches get stitches, Kenny, and I mean it.”

“My lips are sealed,” Kenny promised. He pantomimed zipping-up his mouth, locking it, and throwing away the key. He leaned forward, hand bracing against the table. “But really, what was in the contract?’

“You wanna know?” Adam asked. 

“Yeah, I wanna know!” Kenny said. 

“Well, I’m not going to tell you,” Adam smirked. “You’ll just have to find-out with Matt Hardy and everyone else. I don’t wanna pop the surprise.”

“Aw, Pizz, you’re killing me, now that’s all I’m going to think about for the rest of the night!” Kenny laughed, he deflated into his chair. Then he bounced back, livened with an idea. “Oh, I know, you made it so you get a third of his merch sales? A half?! Man, that’s brutal. Ooh, I know what you should’ve done, what I would do? Make him your butler for a few weeks, that would be funny.”

Adam chuckled, cheeks flushed with amusement. All he did was shake his head and keep his mouth shut. Kenny gave-up, lifting his hands in a gesture of peace. While they ate, Kenny talked about the Women’s Title Eliminator tournament and all that went into organizing it. He seemed excited to debut the woman’s bracket next week. He promised that he had seen the matches, and they were, “fantastic.” In particular he was ecstatic about Aja Kong and Yuka progressing. Adam had no idea who Maki Itoh was beyond her Twitter, but Kenny was adamant she get a contract at some point. On his part Adam was happy to sit back —long after polishing off his own plate— and listen to Kenny, occasionally interjecting a question or an affirming, “mhm.” Eventually, Kenny got around to eating his last piece of sushi. His eyes darted beyond Adam’s shoulder and pushed himself to his feet to go check on the oil. 

Adam turned in his seat to watch Kenny in the kitchen. He was eyeing a thermometer dipped in the pot. Pleased with the temperature, he moved to start working with the meat. Kenny used a skewer to dip a pork cutlet into the flour, then egg, then back into the flour. Adam cleared the sushi plates from the table. He rinsed them in the sink. He cleaned a few other dishes, cutting boards, and knives, listening to Kenny complain about getting flour on his fingers. Adam put the dishes on the rack and dried his hands on a towel. He wandered to Kenny’s side. Kenny had coated two cutlets in panko crumbs and the breaded meat sat on a plate ready to go. He fiddled with the thermometer, brow furrowed in concentration. He adjusted the temperature on the stove and then gripped the pot handle to center it on the burner. He hissed when his hand touched hot metal. Kenny stuck his finger in his mouth. 

“Hot,” he breathed to Adam. 

“Yeah, no shit, go rinse it under the cold water,” Adam ordered. “Are you okay?”

“Just my pride,” Kenny said, as he ran his finger under the faucet and washed his hands of flour. “I thought I was going to be so cool, making Tonkatsu for you, and you’d be like, ‘wow, look at Kenny be a boss in the kitchen,’ and now I’m just kinda—”

He returned to the stove and looked at the simmering oil with particular trepidation. 

“Now, I’m just kinda nervous,” he admitted, smiling again. “Like, I don’t want to fuck this up and ruin the evening, or something.”

“Do you want help?” Adam asked.

“How heroic,” Kenny pined. “A cowboy come to save me.”

“Yeah, yeah, mostly I just don’t want the food burned,” Adam said, stepping to Kenny’s side. He nudged his hip against Kenny’s and picked-up a skewer. The task was simple, pick-up the two pieces of meat and plunge them into the boiling oil. Yet, when Adam did it, Kenny looked at him like he did something astounding. Adam handed the tongs to Kenny, “you can flip them on your own, right?”

“Pfft, I got that,” Kenny bragged, taking the utensil from Adam. He positioned himself, watching as bubbles formed around the meat. The panko browned to an appetizing gold. As the meat cooked, it exuded juices that caused the oil to spit. Kenny yelped, when some struck his arm, shifting behind Adam. “Unless it fights back?!”

“Aren’t you the guy who fought a G1 with a fractured heel?!” Adam snapped. “Don’t be a baby, it’s just oil, it’s not going to bite you! Get in there.”

Kenny patted Adam’s shoulder and shifted to plunge the tongs into the oil. He flipped both pieces of meat. Although, he held the tongs at the furthest extent to avoid oil splatter. Adam placed his hand on the small of Kenny’s back to hold him steady as they waited the last minute for the meat to finish. It was such a simple gesture but Kenny’s nerves seemed to evaporate under his touch. Kenny fished out the cutlets and placed them diagonally on a draining rack. The cooking done, Kenny kicked Adam out of the kitchen while he finished the rest of the meal. Adam returned to the dining table, sat down, and enjoyed his beer. The soothing melody of Kenny banging around behind him as background noise. 

A few minutes later, Kenny placed a plate in front of Adam. The cutlet had been sliced thin and fanned across the edge of the plate. A generous heap of shredded cabbage piled in the middle garnished with a slice of tomato and lemon. On the side were pickled radishes. The colors popped and the meat smelled delicious. Kenny laid a small container of pouring sauce between them on the table. Kenny sat down with his own plate across from Adam.

“This is so— great, Kenny,” Adam breathed, looking over the food. He picked-up his chopsticks and dove in for the Tonkatsu. It was juicy and savory, with a nice crunch. Adam groaned, “It tastes fantastic.”

“Thanks, I was worried about overcooking it, but with you at my side, it was easy,” Kenny said, he smiled. He poured some sauce on his cutlet. “We make a great team.” 

Adam focused on pinching some cabbage between his chopsticks, eyes casting down to the plate. “Yeah, I— I guess we do.”

“Hey, it was just an observation,” Kenny said, he nudged Adam’s foot under the table with his own. "It doesn't have to mean anything."

“No, no, it’s fine,” Adam said. He took a sip of beer but didn’t taste it. “You’re right, I was just thinking— I’ve tagged with a lot of people lately, and none of them are like you. You really are the best.”

“That’s sweet, cowboy,” Kenny grinned, but Adam sensed the need to change the conversation. Mourning the tag-team wasn’t uplifting for either of them. 

“So, where did you learn to make this?” Adam asked. He gestured at the Tonkatsu. “’Cause it’s really good. Not going to lie, that’s what I miss about Japan— the food. They just don’t have the same, I don’t know, style? Yeah, style, in America.”

“Well, I learned from one of the ladies I stayed with when I first moved to Japan in, 2008, well, kinda learned,” Kenny elaborated. He shrugged, “mostly I just watched her cook and sometimes she let me help. She always did the bits with the oil because she was afraid I’d burn myself. My Japanese wasn’t good back then but I’m pretty sure she thought I was just an idiot.”

“I mean, you can be a bit,” Adam paused. Kenny pressed his lips thin, so he picked his next word carefully, “ditzy?”

“I’ll give you that,” Kenny said. “I wouldn’t trust me around a big pot of boiling oil either. You handled yourself pretty well in there, though.”

“Deep fried is a staple food in the rural south," Adam said. "It's a survival skill, where I'm from. It's okay, Kenny, you can kick my ass Street Fighter, later, so that way we're even."

The conversation slowed so they could finish eating. Just the sounds of chewing and chopsticks clacking. It was good, the cabbage contrasting to the meat, and the sauce adding a hint of sweetness. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfy silence, Adam wasn't looking for an excuse to breach it. It was just them, together, enjoying the mutual company. When Adam finished eating, just to gross out Kenny, he picked up his plate and licked it clean. The gesture had the intended effect of making Kenny screw-up his nose and expression. Adam took his last swig of beer and then carried both their plates to the sink. Adam helped Kenny tidy-up the kitchen. Adam washed the dishes and Kenny dried, putting the plates away on the shelves. They moved around each other like this was something they did every night. Yet, each time Kenny’s elbow jostled Adam or he moved a step closer, a warm heat spread across Adam’s skin. It was dark outside when they finished and Kenny turned on lights in the house to illuminate the rooms. 

“You up for cake, cowboy?” Kenny asked as he returned. He took a box out from the fridge and finagled the lid open. Inside the box was a small, white cake decorated with vanilla icing, raspberries, and fancy swirls. Kenny smacked Adam’s hand away when he tried to taste the frosting. 

"Ow," Adam grunted. He cradled his hand to his chest.

“I didn’t really know what you liked, but everyone likes vanilla, so I figured I couldn't go wrong,” Kenny admitted as he took the cake out of the box. Adam got plates and a knife to cut with. Kenny stuck his tongue out as he sliced into the cake. It was obnoxiously cute. He pointed with the knife, “Is this big enough?”

“That’ll do it,” Adam said.

 Kenny sliced the cake and put a piece on a plate that he handed to Adam, then cut his own piece. The inner filling of the cake was a bright red raspberry and Adam hummed, eager. to try Kenny took a fork and cut off a small piece of his cake slice. He offered the morsel to Adam. Once again, Adam let Kenny feed him. It was sweet, with a delicate crumb, and acidic with the fruit. Kenny opened his mouth, making an ‘ah’ sound, to indicate he wanted Adam to return the gesture. Adam obliged, watching with fascination as Kenny’s lips closed around the fork. A speck of icing trapped at the corner of his mouth. Before he could stop himself, Adam leaned forward and kissed it off— grinning all the way back as Kenny’s cheeks flushed. 

“You remember when we tricked that waitress into giving us free cake?” Kenny asked. His eyes lit-up, to divert his attention though, he glanced down for another bite. “That was— fun.”

“I don’t think we tricked anybody,” Adam laughed. "I think the waitress knew what was up the whole damn time."

“What, we weren’t a convincing couple?” Kenny asked. The question so earnest, his voice so soft, that Adam almost dropped his plate. Deep in Kenny's eyes hid a kernel of curious probing. Like he was testing the waters. Wading-out waist high in a surging tide.

“I— um, I guess we were.” Adam ducked his head, but Kenny shoved at his shoulder and the tension dissipated. 

“I’m just teasing you, Hangers,” he laughed. “Eat your cake, before I do. Hey, I know, why don’t we go sit outside? C’mon.”

Kenny had already split off and so that settled it. Adam got a beer from the fridge and followed Kenny out the back door. At the edge of the pool was a small sitting area with chairs and a couch. The ocean crashed against the shore, loud and echoing in Adam's inner-ear. He felt the tide wearing away the sand in his teeth. Kenny sat down on the couch, tossing his phone on the coffee table. He crossed his legs up and finished off his cake. Adam joined him on the other side of the couch. They remarked on the flavors of the cake and speculated if the icing was cream cheese or not. Finished eating, Kenny put his plate down and lounged back against the cushions. 

Adam studied Kenny’s profile. His straight nose and angular jaw, the untamed stubble on his cheeks. His lips pink with red raspberries. In red and black, he looked marvelous. The wind tussling his curls. And his eyes, so scarce these days, holding every emotion Adam hoped to see reflected in them. Adam’s heart collided with the inside of his ribs. He took his last bite of cake and put aside the dishes. Then, for courage, he swigged on his beer and set that aside too. He leaned into the cushions, adjusting a pillow underneath his right elbow. 

“Hey,” he said, voice coarse and weak, the word lost to the ocean. Kenny looked at him, hearing him anyway, and Adam opened his arms wide, “What are you doing over there? Get your ass over here.”

Kenny slid over until he leaned against Adam’s side. Adam swung his legs up onto the couch and pulled Kenny against his chest. Kenny settled between his legs and Adam draped his arm over Kenny’s back. Something dislodged in Adam’s lungs and he breathed easy for the first time in months. Kenny sighed and pressed his cheek to Adam’s collarbone. His hand ran over Adam’s bicep. Adam reached over Kenny, picked-up his beer, and took another casual swig. Part of him regretted the alcohol because now his breath must smell like beer and cake. The other part of him needed it to function in this moment. 

Adam drew broad circles between Kenny’s shoulder blades, feeling each hard muscle, defined and strong beneath his hand. Kenny was warm in contrast to the cool night, like a little personal heater. Adam chuckled, content as he leaned back against the arm rest. Kenny turned his face into Adam’s chest and buried his nose into Adam’s shirt. He shuddered in Adam’s arms, a full body tremble working all the way down his spine. Adam lifted his hand to work his fingers through Kenny’s hair and curls. A little coarser now since he dyed it, black and silver. Adam didn’t know what else to say or think, or do. Didn’t know if this was Kenny using him for comfort or something more. If he was supposed to read between the lines, look for the fine text, or just be a quiet and good pillow. Maybe, he'd just pretend that the way Kenny clung to him was because of love. 

“I like your hair like this,” Adam mused. He ran his fingers through Kenny’s scalp. It was an easier question than: why did you bring me here? What do you want from me? What are we? 

“Thanks,” Kenny muttered. He turned his cheek to press against Adam’s chest. Adam considered that an improvement. 

“Are you okay?” He managed. 

Kenny sighed, shoulders heaving. He wrapped his arms around Adam’s waist and cinched in, holding him close. It was the total experience of being owned. That Adam was Kenny’s to have and hold onto. It was possessive in a way that thrilled Adam. That there were seven billion people on this planet and he was the one Kenny Omega invited to a rented house for dinner. Adam was the one who got to hold Kenny Omega, not anyone else. Adam was the one Kenny Omega wanted to be held by. It had to mean something. He wanted it to mean something. Please, let it mean something. 

“It’s just,” Kenny whispered. His voice soft, but Adam carded his fingers through Kenny’s hair to encourage each word forth. “Sometimes, I realize one day I could die. I could just disappear and the world would be none the wiser. There’s be no one to miss me and that— that terrifies me more than death itself.”

Then, Kenny laughed, shaking his head, giggling like he said something funny. Not something that Adam had no idea how to react to. Every word of it raised a protest inside Adam though. That he cared, that he would notice, that he would be devastated to lose Kenny. That he lost Kenny once and he had no intentions of ever doing it again. Except, Adam had no idea how to say all that in a way that made sense. When he opened his mouth to speak nothing came out but a huff of carbon dioxide. Kenny tensed, feeling Adam’s diaphragm tighten. It was as if Adam’s anxiety infused and intertwined with Kenny's, into something ugly between them. Adam could just hold Kenny tighter and that would make Kenny understand. Hold so tight to Kenny that he couldn’t leave, couldn’t go anywhere, and they’d just fit together, and it’d work. 

Except, Adam was no longer so young and stupid as to believe that would work. It wasn’t enough to ask Kenny, ‘do you trust me,’ when he already breached that trust. Adam couldn’t hold on alone, they had to meet in the middle. These things had to be mutual. This was a two street and Adam had no idea if Kenny was walking towards him or away. He was just a blur in the distance that he was chasing like hell. As if, when he caught Kenny, he’d get the answers to the questions he was too afraid to ask. 

Kenny shifted, pushing back against Adam and the awkward silence between them. The silence Adam let linger too long. He wondered if just screaming would work better than this. Kenny sat-up, and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. He clung to one of Adam’s hands like it was a life raft in the middle of that ocean out there. They sat thigh-to-thigh, hip-to-hip. Maybe, that’s how Adam felt, like Kenny was drowning and all he could do was yell advice from the shoreline. 

“Look,” Kenny began, he licked his lips. He stared at where their knees touched. Adam could feel Kenny's pulse fluttering beneath his fingers. “There’s something I gotta tell you.”

Kenny giggled again, shoulders shaking and Adam had no idea what the joke was. He placed his other, free hand on Kenny’s shoulder. 

“I set all of this up to tell you, but I— I don’t know what to say,” He admitted. He shook his head and squeezed Adam’s hand. 

“Whatever, whatever you feel, man,” Adam offered, lamely. “You know I’m here for you.”

“Look—” Kenny began.

He looked-up, gunmetal blue eyes matching Adam’s gaze. The warm glow from the house burned his cheeks gold and he shivered. Kenny was scared, the thought hit Adam like a gunshot. Terrified, looking at Adam, like Adam was going to hurt him. Like a whipped dog anticipating being taken out back.  

“Adam, I—”  he began, then a sharp chime cut him off.

Both Kenny and Adam looked down at Kenny’s phone on the coffee table. Don Callis, calling Kenny, the phone vibrating against the glass. Kenny withdrew his hand, untangling from Adam, scooting away. Like, he'd been burned and scalded, like he just put his hand back on that pot handle and this time gripped tight. “I’m not— I’m not going to answer it. I— I told him I’d be busy,” Kenny stammered, his hands working through his hair. There was a bite to his tone that set Adam’s heart on fire. “I don’t know why he’s calling me he should know.”

As Kenny’s pitch hitched and his voice cracked, Adam lunged forward to hit the decline button on the phone. The phone stopped ringing and Kenny sighed, his face stricken pale. Adam himself breathed for the first time in almost a minute, slowly leaning back into the couch. His hands rested on his knees. The ocean crashed and receded. 

“He can leave a damn voice mail,” Adam managed, cracking a half-grin but when he looked at Kenny it was not returned. Instead, Adam met wild eyes and a pale face, white with fear. In a few seconds it calmed, the war raging in Kenny dying down as he glanced away from Adam. As Adam watched Kenny pulled the glasses-free from his front pocket and shoved them on his face. He licked his lips, jaw working tight. “Kenny, is everything okay?”

“Fine, it’s fine, I’m fine,” Kenny repeated, his hands rubbed over his thighs. “I’m not— I’m not going to keep you, you can go. It was— It was fun tonight, thanks.”

Kenny lifted and waved his hand as if to dismiss Adam. Adam’s felt his temper go through the roof, just a moment of complete rage that calmed immediately. There were no words, just screaming like if he opened his mouth, a long drawn howl would escape instead of anything coherent. And that was the best he could do to express the emotions in his head. His teeth gritted and Adam rubbed his hands through his hair, trying to clear out the thoughts from his head. 

“No, wait, Kenny what did you want to tell me?” Adam asked. “What were you trying to say before Don called?”

“All, I wanted to do was just tell you that— that,” Kenny stuttered, and Adam had no faith that what came out of his mouth next was the truth. “That you can always talk to me if you need it. That, that I’m here for you, Page, and like, that you don’t need to go signing stupid contracts with Matt Hardy, but you didn’t so, it’s really not a problem. You— you didn’t need me.”

“Is that it?” Adam asked, he glanced around the house. Thought of the sushi and the home-cooked meal. Of cake and Kenny dressing nice just for Adam. “You did all this, just to tell me that? Are you sure that’s what you wanted to tell me?”

“What do you think?” Kenny asked, he peered at Adam. The glasses and his expression were like a brick wall. Impassive, unreadable, and drawing Adam to a total stop. Adam’s stomach twisted, lips parted in unvoiced confusion. Adam couldn’t answer the question because he was afraid of what Kenny thought. Kenny didn't love him, Kenny didn't care, Kenny was using him.

 “Seriously, Page, I’m fine— you can leave if you want,” Kenny repeated. “It was fun tonight.”

“No, no, no, Kenny,” Adam interjected. “No, I’m not just leaving, I’m not going anywhere until I get some damn answers about what the hell is going on. I’ve been out of my mind for months trying to figure us— this, out.  It ain’t even just about what you did to Moxley or any of the other crap. I was with you in Japan, I know how you are. Excalibur may be scandalized but I was there when you won the Intercontinental title off Tanahashi. I know how it goes. What gets me, is that you hadn’t done that shit since Japan. Ever since Don Callis came back you’ve been acting weird and I think by this point I deserve some damn answers.”

“Okay, fine, fine, what do you want to know?” Kenny demanded. He crossed his arms over his stomach. “I am an open book.”

“It’s just, I don’t know—” Adam stumbled over his words, the real questions getting in the way of the ones he could actually ask. What are we? So, instead, he stumbled-on, “Are you sure you can trust Don?”

“Of course, I can,” Kenny scoffed. “We’re changing the business Adam, changing the world, history! All those solid steel doors, those arbitrary barriers in our sport? They’re gone now! Impact, New Japan, NWA, Stardom, they’re all clamoring to get a spot on our show. We are the hottest thing in wrestling, not WWE, us. Tony Khan, the Bucks, and Cody, the whole locker room, they should be thanking us, we’re giving them jobs, improving their pay checks, and what do we get?! Just like you said, Excalibur on commentary with a bad attitude. No one else shares my vision, no one else gets it, not like Don does.”

Kenny shook his head, curls flopping around. He spoke fast, quickly, trying to get to the next words as soon as possible. 

“I thought that was all bullshit,” Adam admitted. “Just shit Don was making-up to justify taking the title.”

“Page, please!” Kenny said, his hand fluttering in Adam’s direction. “We’ve been planning something like this for years. This isn’t a mere money-making scheme, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy. And yeah, maybe that means I can’t be around Matt and Nick as much anymore, maybe the locker room hates me, maybe I’m not as popular with the audience— big deal. They’ll come around, they always come around, they’ll realize how much I’ve done for them. People change, this is— this is bigger than any one person.”

“Oh, Don isn’t like Matt Hardy?” Adam asked, he lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

Kenny pushed to his feet and Adam stood too. Kenny’s hands fluttered around and something flexed in his jaw like he was chewing on sand. His voice was darker, biting with anger as he shook his finger at Adam. “Don’t even start with me, Page, about who to trust. We both know your track record.”

“Matt Hardy doesn’t give a shit about me,” Adam stated. Kenny stepped-in like it was a warning, but Adam squared his shoulders and with a look wilted Kenny. Adam took sick satisfaction in the inch or two of height he had. To lift his chin, and stand his ground. “And Don Callis doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“Don is like family to me,” Kenny snapped, his finger jutted into Adam’s face, his voice lifting in pitch and volume. Adam couldn’t remember if they ever got to this point with each other, yelling. No, he remembered some shoves in the ring. “He cares about me. I know he does. I’ve known him since I was a child, Page. It’s not the same thing.”

Adam worked his teeth into his bottom lips. He placed his hand on his hips and glanced towards the ocean. Black and churning, the waves thrown in turmoil, rolling, clawing-up the beach to high tide. Adam let himself feel the wind in his hair and his pounding heart. He glanced back at Kenny. 

Back in the day, Biz Cliz days, the Bullet Club, and the Elite was Kenny’s family. They were the ones who looked after him after matches. They were the ones who fetched ice or hot packs for his injuries. They were the ones at ringside. The ones in his tag-teams. The ones who helped him pick-out clothes or get in his ring gear. Adam thought they were family and he had fought like hell for that family. Scrabbled to keep the little niche of home he’d found, that place he belonged. He spared a thought, that something had gone wrong, terribly wrong. So wrong, that Kenny, went to someone else instead of his family. FTR, the Dark Order, Matt Hardy, the Good Brothers, Don, all these side distractions instead of the stable that cared about them. Egos blew-up, friendships faded, but it took more than a couple of arguments to break the Elite. There was a looming specter, sticking his fingers in the crack. Adam may’ve left the Elite but he always thought there’d be something to go back to. He never thought his absence would unravel his friends— never dreamed it. 

He didn’t even think they’d notice he was gone. 

“Does your family usually hit you with a microphone?” Adam asked. 

Kenny’s lips parted, his jaw falling slack. His shoulders drooped and then he rubbed his hand beneath the rims of his glasses. He crossed his arms, gaze turning downwards. Adam’s hands fell to his sides, feeling that the fight was over. Kenny shook his head as if to physically dislodge Adam’s words from his skull. Kenny was a fighter, he was a leader, he was a crazy visionary, who did his own thing. He always had an argument in him. He always kicked-out. He fought sixty minute matches against Okada. The way he capitulated in defeat here and now was fascinating because it was so against him. It was like Adam pushed back and found nothing but dust. That he had glanced back over his shoulder and suddenly Kenny had turned to salt. A pillar of salt, crumbling in Adam’s hands. A divine and cruel trick, stealing from him what he most desired, at the last possible second. 

Adam sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. Then, Kenny lurched forward and pressed his forehead into Adam’s shoulder. Adam closed his eyes and reached-up to tangle his fingers back in Kenny’s hair. He worked out a knot and then smoothed his palm down Kenny’s back. Kenny trembled against him, fingers twisted in Adam’s shirt. It was a desperate grip, like this attention and concern was foreign to Kenny. Like he was starved and Adam supposed that made sense because this didn’t feel like something Don Callis would do. Because Don Callis didn't care about Kenny. He wouldn't take care of Kenny, not like his friends would— like they were supposed to. They had failed Kenny and so he went to someone else. (They had failed Adam and so he had went to someone else). Adam hummed, low in his throat, and buried his nose in Kenny’s hair. He smelled of cologne and sea salt, and everything Adam missed. 

“Forget about Don,” Adam said. “I— I shouldn’t’ve said that, it’s none of my damn business.”

“I just don’t want to fight with you,” Kenny admitted. “I don’t— I don’t deserve you, Page.”

“Nah, don’t say that,” Adam shook his head. “Because if you were gone, you know I’d miss you, right? I ain’t got that many friends left, Kenny. You’re special to me.”

“Charmer,” Kenny grunted. 

“Can’t coast on just my good looks, you know,” Adam chuckled. He wrapped both his arms around Kenny and drew him tighter. Knowing that he was being used. Knowing that they were no closer now than they were before. “Gotta have some personality.”

“Hmm, but you are good-looking,” Kenny agreed. His hands smoothed down Adam’s side, unabashed in feeling the muscles and curves of his waist. “You’re very handsome, cowboy.”

Adam chuckled as Kenny wrapped his arms around him. It felt good to be needed. Good to be wanted and held. To be possessed by someone. Adam wanted Kenny to own him. But, he wasn’t sure if it was real or if Adam was just here, and hot, and it worked. 

“I can stay,” Adam murmured. “Just one night, you and me, like— like in the hotel.” 

“You— you want to?” Kenny asked. He pulled from Adam to look at him, or rather let Adam look at his glasses. “I have an extra toothbrush.”

“Good, because all my shit is at the hotel,” Adam said, flashing a grin. 

Adam tapped Kenny on the back to urge him back inside. Adam carried in the plates and his mostly undrunk beer. At the kitchen sink, he chugged a few big gulps and poured the rest of the alcohol down the drain. Adam rinsed and cleaned the dishes, while Kenny finished tidying-up behind him. The domesticity was intoxicating, giving Adam more of a buzz than the beer. It was deceptive too. For a second, Adam could pretend they did this little ritual every night. Clean-up after dinner, put-away all the dishes, and then, turn off the kitchen lights, head for bed. As Adam followed Kenny down the hall to the master bedroom, he rubbed the sweat off his palms and onto his pants legs. 

The master bedroom had a large bed, a couch, desk and chair, and a TV on a stand. A sliding door connected to the back patio outside. Airy, light blue curtain hung over the windows and glass. The walls were painted white and the bedding was blue. The typical beach decor was as bland as the rest of the house. Kenny rummaged around in a suitcase, left on a couch with a few stray articles of clothes on the cushions. He procured a set of soft fabric shorts and tossed them to Adam. 

“I don’t sleep in pajamas like you do, Pizz,” Kenny said. His early energy was gone and he said all of it like it was a statement of fact. Adam didn't doubt Kenny's ability to put on a show though. Even if he felt like shit he'd find a way to hide it. “So, you’ll just have to do with my work-out clothes. I washed them, I promise.”

“Are you going to sleep in your X-men undies again?” Adam teased. Kenny found a toothbrush but instead of handing it to Adam, he chucked it at Adam’s head. Adam caught the flung toothbrush with a clap of his hands. “Hey, I like Wolverine!”

“No, for the record I wore briefs this time,” Kenny said. He shrugged off his blazer and smiled softly, almost regretfully. “I came prepared.”

Adam stepped around the edge of the room, watching as Kenny peeled off his shirt. He’d seen Kenny shirtless a thousand times. He could map each expanse and stretch of muscle, the powerful curve of his back, his thick arms, and broad shoulders. This time felt special, significant, especially when Kenny glanced over his shoulder at Adam and caught him watching. Adam ducked his head and escaped into the bathroom. 

Once the door was closed behind him, he stared at himself in the mirror. Adam splashed cold water on his face and then brushed his teeth. He changed into Kenny’s shorts, used the toilet, and left, wiping his hands on the hand towel. Kenny had changed into a pair of sweat pants and he was yanking the curtains closed over the window. Adam walked-up behind him, hooked an arm around Kenny’s waist and pulling him back to his chest. 

“I’ll wait for you in bed,” Adam murmured, dipping his head to speak in Kenny’s ear. “Don’t take too long, I’m tired.” 

“Yes, sir,” Kenny chuckled. “You know, I like it when you boss me around.”

“Make sure you wash behind your ears,” Adam ordered, severely. 

Adam tapped Kenny’s hip and sent him off towards the bathroom. He turned off the bedroom lights and the nightstand lamp then slid underneath the covers of the bed. It felt like this would be easier if he didn’t have to look at Kenny. Then they wouldn’t have to face anything, just be with each other. The bed was softer than Adam was used to and he fought the mattress to roll over on his side, punching at the pillow to get it shaped right. The ocean rumbled and Adam sighed, exhaling with the tide. He heard the bathroom door open and the latch close behind Kenny. He heard each pad of Kenny’s footsteps on the carpet before the mattress dipped and Kenny slid into bed. Adam rolled over, reaching for Kenny and guiding him closer. Kenny shimmied over and Adam tucked his arm over Kenny’s side, his hand resting over Kenny’s stomach. He pressed his nose into Kenny’s neck and Kenny hooked his calf around Adam’s leg to bring them flush. Every inch of Kenny’s body pressed against Adam. Kenny laid his hand over Adam’s and intertwined their fingers. Kenny rumbled, content, then slid his foot down to put his ice cold toes on Adam’s ankle. Adam jerked, cussing, and Kenny giggled. 

Adam’s eyes fluttered closed. Kenny’s breath as gentle as the ocean. He’d been dreaming about this for months, having Kenny back here. The memory of the hotel room a poor substitute for having him under Adam’s arm. Warm, heavy, his pulse tangled with Adam’s. Adam wiggled his arm underneath Kenny and clutched him tighter. He nuzzled his nose into Kenny’s neck. Here he could say anything. Anything at all, whisper it and pretend Kenny was sleeping, and Kenny could pretend he was sleeping if he didn’t want to hear it. And it’d be like a confession, words lost to empty air, absolution offered to wash them clean. Adam opened his mouth and nothing came out. Instead his lips moved and he mouthed, “I love you.” Without uttering a single sound. Then again, “I love you.” 

“Adam,” Kenny grunted, and Adam almost panicked, wondering for a second if he had actually said those things out loud. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Adam asked, sleep dragged at his mind, making him a little dumb. 

“Staying,” Kenny said. “I know I— I freak-out on you there.”

“It's fine,” Adam whispered. “It happens. Wanna hear a crazy idea I have?”

Kenny shifted, wiggling in Adam’s arms to turn over. Adam grunted when Kenny dug his elbow into his ribs so he could leverage himself onto his opposite side. Kenny buried his face in Adam’s chest and Adam wondered if that was just how he preferred to sleep. Adam rolled onto his back and dragged Kenny with him. He let his fingers play with the ends of Kenny’s hair as the other hand interlaced with Kenny’s on his stomach. Kenny settled himself and Adam licked his lips, just stupid enough to share this crazy idea. 

“Hit me, cowboy,” Kenny ordered. 

“We leave in the morning,” Adam suggested. “I don’t know where to, maybe nowhere specific, but it’s just the two of us. Sleeping in motels, eating shit at dinners, and working the indies— making like fifty bucks a show, so there’s never enough money but we make it work. Maybe we’re a tag-team again or it’s just us in singles. We dominate the competition, earn those dumb little regional belts we used to own. No more stakes, no more crap, just— wrestling, fun as it used to be.”

“We’d be recognized,” Kenny muttered, and Adam remembered the goofy BTE bits he used to shoot down for Kenny. Poking holes in the logic or saying the joke wasn’t funny. All because he was afraid of committing to an idea. Turn about was fair play he guessed. “We could— we could wear masks.”

“You ever wrestle in a mask?” Adam asked. 

“No,” Kenny admitted.

“Sucks,” Adam grunted, “And the moment you did a One-Winged Angel, everyone would know who you are. It’d just be El Generico all over again.”

“We should go horse riding,” Kenny suggested, he yawned. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Next time you’re in Virginia,” Adam promised. “I’ll take you.”

“Mhmm, maybe that should be sooner, rather than later,” Kenny smiled. He settled then and Adam shut-up so he could sleep. In a few moments Kenny breathed easily, and steadily, his eyes closed. Adam twirled a black curl around his finger, absent-minded. 

“I love you,” he said, to the empty room. An observation, a statement of fact, Adam kissed the top of Kenny’s head. This time, he whispered into those curls, “I love you.” 

And then he adjusted himself so he was comfortable in the pillows. Adam sagged, the tension bleeding out of his stiff frame like water. Kenny mumbled softly in his sleep and Adam tucked him close to his side. Thoughts twisted-up in his head, Adam drifted unconscious. Then, when his eyes opened, the room was bright, light spilling in through the thin curtain. The sea raged and the gulls cried. His arm was dead weight, asleep. Adam blinked, lifting his head. In the night, he and Kenny had shifted. Kenny’s head laid on his bicep as he slept. His hand rested on Adam’s chest, fingers crooked. Needing blood flow back in his fingers, Adam slipped his arm out from under Kenny’s head. He sat-up in the bed, careful not to jostle the mattress too much. Adam opened and closed his hand, fingertips tingling painfully. He looked down at Kenny. 

His hair was in total disarray, tangled on the pillows. A little bit of drool welled at the corner of his parted lips and he breathed rough, long, slow. Without Adam, he turned onto his side. Adam slid out of the bed. He found his jeans and changed back into his clothes. Adam stepped into his boots and returned to the kitchen. He rummaged in the fridge, the options were meager. Eggs, ketchup, cheese, milk, and luckily, a pack of bacon— probably stuff Kenny bought specifically for breakfast, based on the large container of protein powder beside the fridge. He poked through the cabinets and found the flour from last night, but also sugar, baking powder, cheap imitation vanilla, and salt. 

Adam was methodical as he cracked eggs to scramble and for pancakes. He whipped-up the batter in a bowl and found the frying pans in a lower drawer. The back burner slow-cooked bacon with a tantalizing sizzle and on a front burner, Adam cooked the pancakes. Making just enough for him and Kenny. He cleaned-up as he went, leaving dishes on the drying rack. He did the eggs last, scrambling them with cheese and pepper, when he heard the water run, indicating Kenny was up and using the bathroom. A few minutes later Kenny wandered into the kitchen, rubbing the heel of his hands over his eyes. He paused in the doorway, gaping as Adam assembled two plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

“Mornin’,” Adam grunted, as he took a knife and fork out of the drawer. He walked over to the table and sat down. 

“You made breakfast? I should invite you over more, geez,” Kenny said. He sat down with his plate. “Did you sleep, okay?”

“Not too bad,” Adam said. He watched as Kenny took a bite of eggs and grinned as Kenny moaned almost obscenely. “Was pretty nice sleeping next to you.”

“Well, cowboy, you can do that anytime you want,” Kenny promised. He tapped his fingers against the table. “So, I guess you’re heading out then?”

“Yeah, I gotta,” Adam said. “I got a seven-hour drive, training and working-out to get on, and like, I’m bleeding money paying my neighbor’s daughter to watch my dogs. But uh, this, thing, last night, it was fun? We should do it again.”

“Including the cuddling?” Kenny asked, propping his chin against his hand. He picked-up a piece of bacon between his fingers and cheekily tore a piece off. “I couldn’t agree more. Especially, if you’re going to cook like this.”

“Definitely the cuddling, you’re a pretty good hand warmer,” Adam nodded. He scrapped the last of the eggs onto his fork and polished it off with some pancake. He stood-up and took his plate to the sink while Kenny finished eating. 

Kenny followed Adam out as he returned to his car. They hugged and Adam settled into the driver seat. He recalled the inane story he spun last night, where they go back to the indies and pretended the past year didn’t happen. It wasn’t fleeting because it was impossible. It was simply too late. As Adam turned the ignition he wondered if he could convince Kenny to come back with him to North Carolina instead. Just hide there until the next Dynamite or something. Steal a little bit more time. He put the car in the reverse and let the thought die under the rear wheels. 

#ofgrief #‘The Idiot Speaking’ || OOC #‘Beloved’ || Adam and Kenny #‘Deals with God’ || Adam: Verse #i bet there's at least a few typos in this but it's in god's hands now

[xxdanganronpa-stuffsxx]

DR3 boys react to an S/O being accused of murder in the killing game

For some reason Tumblr won’t let me respond to this one directly so I’m making a completely separate post so I hope whoever requested it sees it! Anyway this is super angsty and I hope y’all like it! sorry it took so long for me to get out bit this past weekend was pretty busy and this was a bit of a long one.

-mod korekiyo 

Shuichi Saihara

He’s confused

How could everyone be so blind

You are so sweet and kind, you could never kill someone!

You were terrified

You were pale and sweating

You gripped tightly to you podium

Everyone was yelling back and forth about how it had to be you

You had such a solid alibi but no one would believe you

You looked to Shuichi for help

He had been rather calm during the whole trial but the helpless look on your face broke him

“Alright listen up! S/o can’t be the murder! And I have solid evidence to proof it!”

Everyone went silent

No one had ever seen Shuichi so angry

“Listen, S/O was with me when ryoma was killed, and even monokuma can back up that fact, but that’s not all!”

You let out a sigh of relief

“Even if they would have snuck out and killed him, then himiko would have definitely seen them, which she said she didn’t”

Himiko nodded in agreement

You gave Shuichi a smile and thanked him

After the trial you were shaken up as always, everyone was

You hugged him tightly and buried you head in his neck

He rubbed your back mumbled small “I love you’s” into your ear

He was so scared that he would lose you

He was scared that he would lose everyone

Gonta Gokuhara

This boy was TERRIFIED

He can lose his S/O!

“S/O WOULD NEVER KILL!”

Everyone looked at him with pity

The poor man was a wreck

He tried making arguments but they all came out as incoherent sobs

You took a deep breath and tried to defend yourself

Normally no one would believe you, but they wanted to give Gonta some hope

That’s when the realized that the case didn’t actually make any sense if you were the killer

Gonta was so relieved

After the trial he picked you up of the ground and held you tightly

“S/O GONTA WAS SO SCARED!”

It took a lot of cuddles to calm him down

Ryoma hoshi

When your name was mentioned, he smiled

This is his sick punishment wasn’t it

He let himself become close to someone as pure as you and you became just like him

He blamed himself

He looked at you with tears in his eyes

“I’m sorry S/O, this is my fault”

“What?! No I didn’t do it!”

He wanted to believe you so badly

But part of him was still convinced that you had killed someone and now you were going to die and it was all his fault

“ S/O! Isn’t funny how things turn out so awfuly in the end?!”

He was laughing and crying

You’ve never seen him like this

He was hysterical

It scared you too see your nomaly rather stoic boyfriend like this

“Ryoma please calm down! I didn’t do it!”

He didn’t

You looked around in a panic

Your eyes filled with tears

You were hyperventilating, the room felt like it was spinning

“Please, I-I’m not the murder, ple-please believe me”

Everyone stopped to look at you

Shuichi noted how distressed you were and decided to look things over some more leading to the discover that miu was the killer the whole time

After the trial you and ryoma didn’t speak much until he pulled you into his room

He broke down

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

You fell to your knees and began sobbing into your hands

Neither of you were really ok after that

You can’t stop thinking about how he thought he had pushed you to murder

Did he really think that he was that bad

You two sat against the wall holding each other for a while, neither one wanting to let go

Kiibo

At first he believed them

When you were first accused he was shocked

All he could think was why

You were so nice, you were the only one who fully looked past the fact he was a robot and saw him only as himself

He was heartbroken

“S/O?.......”

“Kiibo it’s not true!”

“S/O why did you kill Angie!....”

You had been trying to stay calm and collected but now you broke down

Kiibo was trying to wrap his head around what was going on

He couldn’t figure out why you would do it

He didn’t think you would have any reason to do so

So why would you do it, it didn’t make any sense

“Wait!”

Everyone stopped and looked at him

“Why would S/O do it, they don’t have a motive, but korekiyo would!”

Soon after , everything fell into place

You both were extremely relieved

After the trial he started to avoid you

“Thank you so much for helping me out back there”

He didn’t respond

You tried to hug him but he backed away

“Kiibo, are you ok?”

“I’m a horrible boyfriend”

“What?! Where is this coming from?”

“I- i thought you killed someone!”

“ Ok i'll admit that it hurt when you accused me, but i don’t blame you for anything Kiibo!”

At this point you two were both sobbing

You hugged each other tightly, sobbing into each other shoulders

He just whispered “I’m sorry” and “love you” over and over again

You gladly accept his apology

Kaito Momota

He is MAD

How dare anyone think HIS S/O could ever kill anyone!

You were shocked

He watched you try to defend yourself but everyone just kept shutting your points down

It broke his heart to see this

He tried to defend you but his mind was too clouded by anger for him to make an actual argument

Eventually Shuichi realized that you couldn’t have been the killer

Kiato calmed down a bit but he was still snappy towards everyone but you during the trial

After the trial he was still on edge

You tried to calm him down but it seemed to just get more angry

“They could have killed everyone! Including you! And that killer would have just walked away from this place!”

He started to cry

You pulled him into a tight hug

He almost fell over but as soon as he regained his balance he hugged you tighter

“He kiato, please just calm down. I’m fine now, everything is fine”

He never really got over that trial but he’s just happy you’re ok

Rantaro Amami

Like Kiibo, he actually thought you were a murder

He was so distraught

He was going to lose you

He blamed no one but this killing game

He just looked down to the ground and let tears roll down his cheeks

“Wait? Rantaro you don’t actually think I killed someone right?”

he gave you a sad yet guilty look 

while the rest of the group discussed your motives, Rantoro stayed  looking at the ground

he couldn't look anyone in the eye

especially that god forsaken bear

he was just mad that this game had broken someone as sweet as you

you were struggling to defend yourself in the trail

no one really wanted to listen to what you had to say

“rantaro?!‘

“S/O?”

“rantaro i didn't do it please”

“I know, i'm sorry i don't want you to go but please just be honest! for me?”

“RANTARO SNAP OUT OF IT I'M NOT THE KILLER!”

he had never seen you snap like that

it scared him more than anything

but he knew you were serious and gave a second look at the case

luckily they were able to find the real killer and the trial ended

after the trial rantaro ran to you and hugged you from behind

he was still crying

he mumbled apologies into your shoulder in between sobs.

you accepted his apology and turned around to give him a proper hug

Korekiyo Shinguji

He upheld is calm nature the whole trial

Well almost the whole trial

When your name was brought up he was startled but he seemed ok

You tried to defend yourself

No one wanted to hear what you had to say

You looked at him to see if he could back you up

He gave a reassuring nod

He then simply tried to tell the group why you couldn’t be the killer

Emphasis on “tried”

He voice was shaky and quiet

no one believed him

Shuichi announced that he thinks it time to vote

Korekiyo PANICKED

“Wait!”

Everyone stopped and turned to him

“I-I’m the killer”

Everyone just stared at him confused

Well if you get out of here Alive you might beat up your boyfriend for pulling something like this

Although he did cause the group to take a second look at the case, saving everyone’s life

After the trial you grabbed his arm and pulled him aside

“Why would you do something like that we all could have died!”

To your surprise his eyes filled with tears

“I’m sorry S/O, I just couldn’t bare the thought of your death and I panicked!”

His voice was shaky and horse

It broke your heart to see him like this

You pulled your lanky boyfriend into a hug

He held tightly onto you, petting your hair with his bandaged hand

Kokichi ouma

You were argueing with everyone defending yourself

But no one would listen to a word you would say

Kokichi tried to defend you too but no one wanted to listen to him either

He looked defeated

You looked over to kokichi

He expression suddenly changed

He looked up and gave you a sly smile and winked

What on earth is your boyfriend up to

He instantly faked up some tears and sobs

“I guys you guys must be right”

He sobbed a bit before looked up at you

“How could you S/O!? I thought we were going to get out of here together?!”

You turned to him giving a “what on earth are you doing” look

You quickly turned around and stared blankly at everyone else hoping your boyfriend knew what he was doing

“I knew it was you from the very start S/O!”

What is he doing!?

“You and I were in your room with kiato and you left to go to the bathroom, that’s when you snuck off to kill Rantaro right?!”

Kiato nodded

“And then you came back at around 6:05 which is proven by this picture we took afterwards in which shows a clock reading 6:10, which would have given you enough time to commit the murder which was documented to have happened at 6:08!”

Kiato shot up with a relization

“Wait that doesn’t dosnt make sense!!”

Kokichi smirked

“Exactly, it took all that for you guys to actually listen!”

So that’s what he was doing

After the trial you gave him a big hug and thanked him

Although he won’t admit it, he was pretty terrified

[nightingalefeminist]

Misha NEEDS to get his way or else...

So listen... @catatonic1242 and I went to VanCon this weekend and had the most amazing time! Not the least of which was our interaction with Misha in the autograph line. Let me give some backstory though because the context is needed trust me...

So my girl Ashley and I went to Seattle Con this year with Silver tickets right... so I bought a painting that I loved from an artist on here (@c-kaeru) and it happened to be a nude drawing of Castiel bleeding a rainbow of colors from his wings. It’s a gorgeous piece and I got it thinking it would be perfect for Misha to sign. WELL, we all know what happened at Seattle so I won’t go into it but long story short the weekend was canceled and I didn’t get any signatures.

Fast forward to VanCon (which I purchased using the Seattle refund money). I took the painting thinking nothing of it because, besides the canceled Seattle trip, the only other con I’ve gone to is Vegas which I didn’t have any autograph tickets for. At some point Ashley asks me what I have for Misha to sign so I tell her and after a moment of silence, in which the problem is starting to dawn on me, she asks me if she can see it. What I hadn’t thought about was the fact that they might not like that it’s a nude because it might make the celebrities feel uncomfortable. At THIS point I’m starting to panic because it was never my intention to make anyone uncomfortable and I hate doing stuff like that so I’m thinking I should probably change what I have signed.

ENTER ASHLEY AGAIN saying we can just cover the Angel junk with a sticky note or something and then if they ask we just tell them. Simple right? So we go all over this foreign city looking for a sticky note y’all, really just trying to find ANYTHING that will make it bareable for me to hand the thing over to be signed or not signed according to their rules. Only a few hours before the signing we found a random reception desk in an inside market that had a pad and we asked for one of the notes, which I trimmed down to fit nicely over this full-frontal dick (a beautifully drawn one mind you).

I’m STILL freaking out though because I’m a wreck in normal circumstances in front of these people but now I have to face possibly being rejected in front of my GISH overlord and favorite TV angel... anyway it comes time for the signing and Ashely has me go first because she wants to support me (but mostly she wants to watch what happens because she’s a turd).

I hand the drawing to the handler who looks at it and then looks at me and says “Is there something inappropriate under the sticky note?” Now... if I were actually trying to cause a scene I might’ve said something snarky like “what do you THINK is under it?!” But I’m being as meek as possible so they understand that im not trying to just cause problems and I say “it’s anatomically correct.” Ashley swears I said it with just a LITTLE bit of attitude because it was a nude drawing and what did the lady *think* was under the sticky note?!? But I honestly can’t remember how I said it because I think I started to black out.

So the handler says “we’re not supposed to sign stuff like this” all while Misha is leaning over trying to grab it from her. Once she says this he says “don’t be fucking stupid” and finally gets the drawing from her. Then I step up to him and as I do he takes the sticky note off and I’m pretty sure I fucking DIED ok, like I don’t like confrontation and he just cursed at his handler because of what I’ve brought to sign and now he’s about to see a rendering of his character’s DONG ok!!! Jesus I’m blushing just thinking about it. So He looks at it for a second, signs his name RIGHT UNDER THE ANGELIC PENIS, and then writes something in parenthesis that I can’t read because I’m dead. However I do notice that the handler reads it and she snorts at whatever is there.

Now, Ashley, standing right next to me, reads it and chuckles so Misha winks at her and then hands me the painting. I didn’t actually see the wink part she told me this after. Anywhoooo I’m still partially blacking out so I look down at my drawing and it says Misha Collins (it’s way bigger) !!!

Then, amazingly through the fog of my rapidly unwinding brain, I hear Ashley say “actually can you sign the fabric, and with a silver pen?” He had been about to sign with black ink on the metal part of her marathon medal and her sudden words stop him cold. He had gotten one line of black ink on the metal and so he looks up at her, COMPLETELY put off by her interruption, and says something like “are you kidding? I’ve already started to sign it!” Then the handler says “it’s going to come off that” and he gives her a death glare and then makes a big huff about switching pens and maybe he says something else I can’t remember because I’m a dead puddle on the floor and my ears aren’t picking everything up.

And THENNNN my AMAZING, LOVELY, NOT AT ALL BACK STABBING girl Ashley says (as he’s signing the fabric part) “she wanted me to tell you that I beat your time.” I think my mouth dropped open and I couldn’t form words because, as we’d discussed earlier, she was going to mention that she’d beat his marathon time and that he was her running inspiration, and INSTEAD decided to shove me the rest of the way under the bus by pinning it ALL on me (tbf I talked her into telling him she beat his time but STILL man, dick move!)(heheee dick move. See what I did there?)

He was INSTANTLY on the defensive! He asked her what her time was and she reiterated that she beat him and then for some god forsaken reason I decided to tell him (with some attitude) that it had been her first marathon too. He still had the medal in his hand and he asked her again “WHAT WAS YOUR TIME?!” So Ashley says, because she’s still trying to remember what the actual time was, “I beat you by four minutes” and Misha is still staring directly at her and aks again “WHAT WAS THE TIME?!” So she finally tells him and then he turns to me with death in his eyes and says “my first marathon was (insert time that was faster then Ashely’s).”

You guys! He was SO DETERMINED for us to know that his first marathon time was MUCH faster THANK YOU and that his dick is WAY BIGGER OK?!?!

Then the handler says “that was twenty years ago” and he turns that death glare on her and says “I will get you fucking fired from the job you fucking hate” and then turns back to Ashley and asks her which marathon it was so she tells him and then after a moment he asks “why would you bring that up?” And hands her the medal. I don’t remember if she responded but I’m starting to leave and so is she and he looks at her again and asks “what’s her name? Give me her name so I can put her on a list!” I actually thought at the time that he was asking for HER name but he was actually asking for mine!!! Neither of us said anything we just walked away while maintaining eye contact until we couldn’t anymore 🤣

Misha Collins is SUCH a hilarious brat during these things and I can’t believe I spurred him into a reaction during my first ever autograph! Again, I honestly wasn’t meaning to cause trouble, and he wasn’t actually upset, but I did cause it and I wouldn’t change it for the world!

#misha collins #vancon19 #spn #art

[maximusthewolfe]

Letters I Never Sent

We all want to know what’s in that envelope, right? 

Here are a bunch of things Eliot Waugh wrote and didn’t send. And one that maybe, just maybe, he will. 

Also on AO3

Eliot pilfered a stack of parchment paper from the drawer of an old desk in a room where he used to sleep as High King. He grabbed it and ran. Down a hall, around a corner, his feet skittering over one another as they tapped down a spiral staircase and skidded into a hallway. Moments. He only had moments. If he was gone too long, Margo would ask questions he wasn't willing to answer. If he stayed in one place for too long, he risked getting caught. He unfolded the paper, pulled a pen from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and....tried.

Q,

Don’t do it. Please don’t do it.

Love,

Eliot.

It wasn't enough. Of course it wasn't enough. He crumpled up the pathetic attempt and started on a new sheet, his hand shaking slightly as he set it on the smooth, cream-colored surface.

Quentin,

We both know I’m not going to send this. So why the fuck am I writing it? Words are - fucking stupid, right? It’s all fucking stupid. I have to do the right thing. I can’t be selfish here, and I know that because of you.

I hate you for that.

I love you for everything.

Fuck.

With a short, soft grunt he pulled this one up, too, balled it, and threw it across the hall where it settled a few feet from the discarded first attempt. How, how was he supposed to do this? How could he convince Quentin Makepeace Coldwater to not save the world. The one thing he'd wanted to do from the moment he found out magic really existed. The one thing he believed would give his life meaning. Was it even possible? What could he possibly say that would change that stubborn man's mind?

Q,

Peaches and Plums. We get proof of concept like that. We can have it again. Fuck the seam. We’ll figure it out. We always do.

Love,

Eliot

He felt raw, ripped open for the world to see, as he read the words back. Like two fucking fruits could somehow encapsulate an entire lifetime spent together, or like they could explain why he'd said no when they returned. As if anything could manage that Herculean feat. He heard rustling somewhere in the distance. He folded the remaining parchment and tore a stamp off the sheet, sticking it to the outside of an envelope and stowing it alongside the parchment inside his jacket. He ripped the letter attempt in half and returned to the dungeons, his heart aching and his head swimming.

Quentin,

I wrote....a lot of versions of this. I told Margo I already sent it. She thought I told Josh to drink himself to death. In her defense, I'm not sure that was an entirely unfair accusation. I let it go. I just wanted to save a stamp.

She wrote one for the last stamp. She told Josh goodbye.

It’s not the same.

But I get it.

I don’t want you to do what you’re about to do, Q. I don’t want you to throw away the chance I have to be braver. I don’t want you to throw away the chance WE have at proving that concept once and for all.

But I get it.

Save the world and all that, right?

But. Q.

I love you.

I really fucking love you.

If you're gonna die, at least die knowing that.

Love,

Eliot

He should have been making quick work of his time by this god forsaken time-jumping mailbox, sending the letter he was writing to a dead man about, but instead it was tucked into his back pocket. And here he was, kneeling beside a boulder on the outskirts of town, rushing to summarize the whole contents of his heart in a way that might - not even guaranteed, just a might - get Quentin back. He had time, but it wasn't his. It was borrowed from Margo, borrowed from Whitespire guards, borrowed from any absently wandering questing beasts or gods who might come across his path at any moment. Borrowed time. The only kind of time he knew, it seemed, when it came to Quentin. Borrowed time, but he was determined to make something of it for once.

Q,

I know you have to.

Please know I love you.

We had one lifetime together, I’m sure we’ll find another.

Peaches and plums, motherfucker. I’ll see you in the next one. I promise not to fuck that one up.

Eternally yours,

Eliot

That felt - closer, somehow. Maybe it was the copious swearing. But it didn't seem right. What if there wasn't a next one? And besides, he didn't want a fucking timeline 41. He wanted this timeline. This life. He didn't want the slate to have to be wiped clean in order for him to get it right for once. And suddenly, just like that, he was mad again. More than mad. Furious. A strangled something-like-a-yell fought its way out of his throat and he ripped the parchment from the stack and tossed it across the expanse of the forest, as far as he could. "Fuck you, Quentin," he shouted, and the echo of his voice against the trees betrayed him. It mirrored his own brokenness back at him, and he hated it. Hated everything. He scribbled down one letter, and then another in quick succession.

Quentin,

For fuck’s sake, don’t be the volunteer tomato. You’re smarter than that. You don’t have to be the chosen one.

-Eliot

*****

Quentin,

You know I don't give a shit, right? I don't give a flying fuck if you love Alice. If you love me. If you love both of us if you love neither of us if you if you if you.

I don't fucking care.

I just want you here to love at all. I want you here to be floppy-haired and doe-eyed and full of belief and faith and YOU underneath all that pain.

I want you here so I can look at you and you can look at me and we can know we're not alone.

I want you here so you can love Alice, if you want to.

Or you can love me, if you want to.

Or you can love someone else altogether. Or no one. Whatthefuckever, you know?

Just. Be here. Come back. Don't do this to us all.

-Eliot

Neither of those were right. Jesus. He made small paper projectiles out of them both and threw them, twisting his fingers as the flew through the air so that they caught fire and turned to ash before they ever reached the ground. The magic felt good - terrible, but good. Controlled chaos, he'd heard Fogg say once. The problem was, Brakebills expected chaotic creatures to understand control. Eliot had increasingly prevalent doubts about whether or not that was possible. Whether or not human nature and magician nature diverged in this very specific way. Wherever magic went, tragedy seemed to follow. Whether it was the chicken or the egg, he didn't really care. All he knew was the pain of the heartbreak and the way it made his chest feel hollow at the same time it made his head feel like it was about to explode. He inhaled, closing his eyes as the breath moved out of his lungs. He bent down to grab the pen where he'd dropped it in favor of the spell and knelt down to try again.

Q,

Some of us need you more than we know how to say.

Some of us fuck up because we’re scared of being happy.

Some of us can’t imagine having something so beautiful in our grasp and not breaking it.

Some of us need you to prove us wrong.

Prove me wrong,

Eliot

Prove me wrong. As soon as he wrote it, he knew. Maybe he'd known the whole time. He was, so very fucking often, a mystery even to himself. But Quentin wasn't a mystery to him. That's how he knew. Quentin would have loved to prove Eliot wrong. It was, in fact, one of his favorite pastimes. On Earth, in Fillory. Quentin lived to tear down Eliot's carefully constructed charisma. He relished any opportunity to break past Eliot's masterfully-placed cynicism. If he sent that letter, it might just work. But what did "work" look like anyway? If Quentin didn't go to the Seam, what would happen? What did Jane Chatwin mean when she said they won? Hadn't they won before? Couldn't they win again? What was so different about this time? Eliot didn't know. But he couldn't know, either. He folded this one and stored it in the free pocket of his pants. Maybe he didn't need Quentin to prove him wrong. Maybe, for once, he needed to prove himself wrong.

It went against everything in him. It laughed in the face of his pain and it ripped and pulled and cut at the already very ragged, very wrecked shreds of his heart. It was exactly the opposite of everything he wanted to do, in this moment. Which was exactly why he wrote:

Quentin,

Jane Chatwin told me something I don’t know how to live with. Something I don’t know how I ever lived without.

We. We are the reason you ever went to Fillory in the first place. In the first timeline, you ran away to escape the grief of losing me.

In the first timeline.

Maybe it’s always been us. Maybe we’re the Romeo and Juliet. Maybe we have the great love. But the great love always gets the tragic ending, right?

I asked her to save you again. She said no. I thought I could find a way to do it anyway. I'm wondering now if she was right.

If I saved you, could I live with myself? Knowing the win that we'd be giving up? Honestly? Probably. Because I'm selfish like that, you know?

And that's the difference, I think. Between the two of us. The difference that counts. If I could save you, you wouldn't let me.

I know what you’re about to do. I know I can’t stop you.

I also know we found each other. In the first timeline. In this timeline. In the timeline we created for ourselves.

I didn't mean it when you said we should try and I told you neither of us would choose each other. I was scared. You scare me. You make me feel alive, and that - scares me shitless. But I suspect you maybe knew that. I'm sorry I didn't make it easier for you to call me on it.

We’ll find each other again. Do what you have to do.

We are the proof, Quentin.

Yours,

Eliot.

P.S. Maybe I wasn’t your first choice in every timeline. Maybe you weren’t mine, either. But Quentin Coldwater, you are the love of my lives. And I’ll be damned if you go to the grave not knowing that.

Before he had a chance to think himself out of the moment. Before he could let his wants catch up with the tiny seed of rightness he felt in his gut, he hastily folded the paper and placed it in the pre-stamped envelope. And then, with slow, deliberate strokes, he addressed it. He wrote Quentin's name with reverence, feeling every line like the cipher to a code that his heart understood when his head would not. When he was finished he stood, brushed the dirt off his pants, and delivered Margo's final letter to Josh.

His borrowed time was up, for now. So he stowed the letter in his pocket and returned to his last real lifeline. The one that still existed, in this plane. He'd have his chance soon enough. And maybe by then the seed of rightness would have grown into something courageous enough to do something with that chance.

To: Quentin Coldwater

Before He Went to the Seam

God, he hoped that seed would grow.

#the magicians #s5 #eliot waugh #quentin coldwater #queliot #queliot ff #eliot ff #the magicians ff #queliot fanfiction #the magicians fanfiction

[whatnotmemes]

-------------------------BEETLEJUICE THE MUSICAL SENTENCE STARTERS PT. 1 change as needed. mentions of death and suicide.

Prologue: Invisible “We have only each other.” “Scripture tells us, ‘Sorrow not, for we do not walk alone.’“ “You're invisible when you’re sad.” “Nobody understands and everyone goes away.” “Grownups wanna fix things, when they can’t it only fills them with shame.” “Is it being greedy to need somebody to see me and say my name?” “Such a bold departure from the original source material.”

The Whole “Being Dead” Thing “‘Scuse me! Sorry to barge in.” “You're doomed! Enjoy the singing.” “If I hear your cell phone ringing, I'll kill you myself.” “We should have carpe'd way more diems. Now we're never gonna see ‘em.” “Welcome to a show about death!” “You're gonna be fine on the other side.” “The women's bathroom has no line here.” “I know you're woke, but you can take a joke.” “We're all on a hit list. Might not live ‘till Christmas.” “Death is taboo, but it's hardly something new.” “If you die while listening to this album, it's still gonna keep playing.” “That's the thing with life: no one makes it out alive.” “Death just needs a little conversation.” “I have mastered the art of tearing convention apart.”

Ready, Set, Not Yet “I know to the untrained eye it's boring.” “Apart from frustration, pain, and financial drain, it's fun!” “Why do you polish a crib when you don't have a kid?” “Your sense of perfection is just a reflection that you are not mentally prepared to make room for a kid.” “Are you willing to take the next step?” “Look at these jugs!” “The world will never wreck you.” “Here we stand at the end of a 10-year plan.” “A baby should be next.” “Together let's leap off the cliff.” “Soon enough, our hopes and our dreams will be crushed.” “Do we want a bilingual household or not?.” “What's the point of having children if we're drowning in debt?”

The Whole “Being Dead” Thing Pt. 2 “I’ll be your guide to the other side.” “Don’t go to the Netherworld.” “I’m the B-to-the-double-E-J-F-Q and Jesus, I can’t spell.” “Let’s all get naked!” “Hey, worth a try.” “I understand that it's a lot to process.” “That means the two of you should stick around.” “Lucky for you I dropped by.” “I’ve been scaring for millennia.” “Flush out all the breathers, you can breathe easier.” “I’m like a ghost-zombie Jesus.” “I do it for the love of it.” “Money? Ah, who gives a shit?” “Come on, let’s make out a bit.” “It’s the perfect day to die.”

Dead Mom “I need a little help here.” “Are you really in the ground? ‘Cause I feel you all around me.” “I'm a bunch of broken pieces. It was you who made me whole.” “_____’s in denial. _____ doesn't wanna feel.” “He wants me to smile and clap like a performing seal.” “You won't believe the mess that we've become.” “You're my home, my destination.” “You held my hand and life came easy.” “I want something to believe in or I’m done.” “Take me where my soul can run.” “I'm running out of hope and time.” “No more playing _____'s game.” “I'll go insane if things don't change.”

Fright of Their Lives “Right now, you couldn't frighten a fly.” “You ever stop to ask yourselves ‘why?’“ “You are super polite, middle class, suburban, and white. Well, all of that is finished tonight. Except for the white part, obviously.” “Look at me, I'm so scary.” “Don't be so vanilla.” “Would a little anger kill ya?” “C'mon, drop your panties. I'm trying to fill ya with wisdom and skill.” “We do not want to kill anyone!” “Now that is cool! I wanna do that!” “Give those guys the fright of their lives.” “Take a deep breath and give me your best primal scream.” “Try it again. Maybe this time pretend like you mean it.” “I find that so rude!” “Both of them are deathly dull and lame.” “Why God-slash-Satan, did you send these bed wetters?” “Well that was a soliloquy so you're the one who's being rude.” “Ugh, these dopes are both hopeless.”

Ready Set (Reprise) "That needy pervert was right." "If we want our house back, we have to fight for it!" "We're ghosts, damn it! Let's haunt this bitch!" "We might as well walk through some walls." "We're ready as we'll ever get." "I gotta get right outside my comfort zone."

No Reason “Just think of the universe as a female best friend.” “You're on the right track, girl. I got your back, girl.” “Think positive. Act positive.” “You are a child of the Earth.” “Life-coaching! Nailing it!” “You dictate the hand the universe deals.” “Who needs evidence? Go with your feels.” “Buy more crystals!” “Everything happens for a reason.” “Be a beacon of light in the world.” “Perception is reality.” “The universe is just the contents of time, matter and space.” “You think life is all unicorns and rainbows.” “Positivity is a luxury that few can afford.” “So you cry yourself to sleep in deep despair- talkin' to the walls 'cause there's no one there.” “Be prepared to take your eggs and freeze 'em.” “Terrible things can happen because the universe is random.”

Invisible (Reprise)/On the Roof “You're invisible when you're me.” “There's no one to see my truth.” “Hey, somebody's on the roof!” “God, it's mortifying. What's the point of even trying?” “Nobody said life's fair.” “By the time you read this I, _______, will be gone.” “There's nothing for me here. I'm alone, forsaken, invisible.” “That makes two of us.” “Can you... see me?!” “I'm gonna have a new best friend!”

Say My Name “You could use a buddy. Don't you want a pal?” “Don't end yourself. Defend yourself.” “The finer points can wait.” “Go ahead and jump but that won't stop him.” “Here you got a solid plan B option.” “You won't believe how far I'll go.” “I'm on the bench, but coach, just put me in the game.” “All you gotta do is say my name.” “How 'bout a game of charades?” “I'll think about your offer, let you know.” “I prefer my chances down below.” “Being young and female doesn't mean that I'm an easy mark.” “Yes, life sucks but not that much.” “Be a doll and spare the lecture.” “I may be suicidal but _____, it's not as if I've lost my mind” “Playing hardball, huh? You are tougher than you look.” “This is a dangerously unstable individual.” “He can help. We found him on Yelp.” “Our troubles all ended on the day that we befriended him.” “There you go, kid. Couple of five-star reviews.” “That was possession. Any ghost can do that in less than one lesson.” “They're sweet, but I'm a demon straight from Hell.” “I know, I went a little hard on the sell.” “But we're BFF-F-F's forever!” “What? He was already dead.” “Together we can make a grown man weep.” “I'll lead that lamb to slaughter.” “I'm gonna make him say my name.”

Day-O (The Banana Boat Song)/Act I Finale “I have only known this amazing, amazing man and his unique daughter for a few months.” “What's goin' on, _____? Are you all right?” “What is happening to me?” “Wait, why aren't you dancing?” “This house is haunted and the ghosts who live here want you out!” “No! I'm a vegan!” “A genuine haunted house? It's a gold mine!” “No, you're supposed to be scared!” “There's one thing that can still stop him.” “I can't keep living like this!” “I'm so glad you changed your mind. You are never gonna regret this.” “We are gonna make such a great team” “It's showtime!” “It's our house now, kid.” “Looks like we're not invisible anymore.”

#beetlejuice rp #beetlejuice meme #rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay #roleplay prompts #ask meme #broadway rp #musical rp #music meme #music rp #horror rp #crack rp #angst rp #angst meme #fluff rp #fluff meme #ghost rp #ghost meme #lydia deetz rp #writing prompt #rp prompts

[deathstunt]

beetlejuice: the musical sentence starters.

‘we have only each other.’

‘scripture tells us: sorrow not, for we do not walk alone.’

‘you’re invisible when you’re sad.’

‘nobody understands.’

‘grownups wanna fix things.’

‘is it being greedy to need somebody to see me and say my name?’

‘holy crap, a ballad already?’

‘sorry to barge in.’

‘let’s skip the tears and start on the whole, y’know, being dead thing.’

‘if i hear your cell-phone ringing, i’ll kill you myself.’

‘we should have carpe’d way more diems.’

‘i do this bullshit, like, eight times a week.’

‘just relax, you’ll be fine.’

‘drink your fifty-dollar wine.’

‘full disclosure: it’s a show about death.’

‘everybody gets on fine here.’

‘every show i do, like, a ton of coke.’

‘jesus, pass the dramamine.’

‘we’re all on a hit list.’

‘hey, that’s just statistics.’

‘there’s a giant snake here!’

‘how you doin’? ...not good.’

‘death is taboo, but it’s hardly something new.’

‘there’s nothing medical professionals can do ‘cept maybe just bill you.’

‘that’s the thing with life, no one makes it out alive.’

‘gosh, it’s awful, aint it tragic?’

‘blah, blah, bible, jesus magic.’

‘namaste, you freakin’ posers.’

‘i have mastered the art of tearing convention apart.’

‘look at this crib!’

‘i know to the untrained eye, it’s boring.’

‘why do you polish your crib when you don’t have a kid?’

‘are you willing to take the next step?’

‘the world will never wreck you.’

‘together, let’s leap off the cliff.’

‘why rush?’

‘soon enough, our hopes and our dreams will be crushed.’

‘what about global poverty? what about world peace?’

‘no habla español, dos cervezas por favor.’

‘what’s the point of having children if we’re covered in debt?’

‘see, i wasn’t kidding!’

‘i’ll be your guide!’

‘jesus, i can’t spell.’

‘let’s all get naked!’

‘i understand that it’s a lot to process...’

‘lucky for you, i dropped by.’

‘i’m like a ghost-zombie jesus!’

‘i think we’re a perfect fit.’

‘come on, let’s make out a bit.’

‘it’s the perfect day to die.’

‘i need a little help here.’

‘i’m probably talking to myself here.’

‘i’m a bunch of broken pieces.’

‘it was you who made me whole.’

‘hurry up, get happy.’

‘forget about your mom.’

‘he wants me to smile and clap like a performing seal.’

‘you won’t believe the mess that we’ve become.’

‘you held my hand and life came easy.’

‘i want something to believe in.’

‘wake me when i’m twenty-one.’

‘daddy didn’t lose a mom.’

‘i’m running out of hope and time.’

‘i’ll go insane if things don’t change.’

‘whatever it takes to make him say your name.’

‘you couldn’t frighten a fly.’

‘you are super polite, middle class, suburban, and white. well, all of that is finished tonight.’

‘i want scary faces, now go!’

‘sever a head, preferably someone you know.’

‘don’t be so vanilla.’

‘would a little anger kill ya?’

‘c’mon, drop your panties!’

‘i’m trying to fill you... with wisdom and skill!’

‘you gotta make ‘em see you!’

‘raise the stakes by punching a baby.’

‘they’ll be quaking in fright!’

‘you’ve got some evil deep down inside you.’

‘what fills you with rage? being mean to a pet? chefs who use too much sage when they make their noisette?’

‘well, there’s lot there to use.’

‘maybe this time pretend like you mean it.’

‘i want freedom.’

‘i know that beggars can’t be choosers, but do they have to be such losers?’

‘why god, slash satan, did you send these bed wetters?’

‘even, like, a tax attorney would’ve been better.’

‘well, that was a soliloquy, so you’re the one who’s being rude.’

‘that needy pervert was right.’

‘let’s haunt this bitch!’

‘i’m sure we can haunt our own house.’

‘the universe is more than just space with no end.’

‘think positive, act positive, you are a child of the earth!’

‘science makes no sense.’

‘who needs evidence? go with your feels!’

‘crystals speak to me.’

‘everything happens for a reason.’

‘be a beacon of light in the world.’

‘gee, i hate to break it to you...’

‘the pacific islands are sinking, but negative thinking is hardly the cause.’

‘you think life is all unicorns and rainbows ‘cause you’re bored.’

‘positivity is a luxury that few can afford.’

‘one day, you make wake up alone.’

‘be prepared to take your eggs and freeze ‘em.’

‘sounds like terrible things can happen.’

‘god, it’s mortifying.’

‘what’s the point of even trying?’

‘nobody said life’s fair.’

‘by the time you read this, i will be gone...’

‘there’s nothing for me here. i’m alone, forsaken, invisible.’

‘that makes two of us.’

‘you could use a buddy, don’t you want a pal?’

‘don’t end yourself, defend yourself!’

‘together we’ll exterminate, assassinate!’

‘go ahead and jump, but that won’t stop him.’

‘i’m on the bench, but coach, just put me in the game!’

‘being young and female doesn’t mean that i’m an easy mark.’

‘i’ve been swimming with piranhas, i don’t need a shark.’

‘yes, life sucks, but not that much.’

‘be a doll and spare the lecture.’

‘really, it’s a flattering offer...’

‘it’s not as if i’ve lost my mind!’

‘he can help, we found him on yelp!’

‘every word is the truth.’

‘that was possession.’

‘what do i need you for?’

‘hold up, girl, i’m your pal!’

‘i know, i went a little hard on the sell.’

‘he was already dead!’

‘the three of us alone can wreck dad’s evening.’

‘together we can make a grown man weep.’

‘it’s our house now, kid!’

‘it’s not their fault that they’re overprotective.’

‘you could be killed by a random sneeze.’

‘everything’s gonna work out.’

‘i’m just gonna ring the bell of this creepy looking house.’

‘no one gets molested by a gothy teen.’

‘maybe i should come back another time when your parents are home?’

‘the sound of a scream is music to me!’

‘you wanna answer it this time?’

‘don’t oversell it, act natural.’

‘i don’t live here, i’m dead.’

‘we’re ruining lives.’

‘no more condescending adults hanging around.’

‘take it and trash it, burn it or smash it.’

‘we have to adapt to survive.’

‘we’ve got nothing to lose!’

‘i was driving lamborghinis, slipping super-dry martinis, and the tiniest bikinis on a yacht, but i was depressed.’

‘i had such low self-esteem, i was a mess.’

‘if i only knew the truth back then, i wouldn’t have had my little accident.’

‘don’t cheat on the one you wed.’

‘why did it take death to see happiness was up to me?’

‘if i knew then what i know now, i would’ve laughed and danced.’

‘life is short, but death is super long.’

‘whichever path i choose i lose, you know.’

‘you always saw life as a game, but since you left it sucks to play.’

‘is this the end you meant for me?’

‘i promise, i’m never gonna forget you.’

‘it’s messy, but they’re all that i have.’

‘i’ll make the best of being flesh and bone.’

‘now, i really love creepy old guys.’

‘hey baby, smile!’

‘one of ‘em loves me and wants to be mine.’

‘i’m a creepy old guy!’

‘i’m so happy i could cry!’

‘girls may seem disgusted, but we’re actually just shy!’

‘you know, i am older, but i’m glad i waited.’

‘fix his hair, get him prepared for armageddon.’

‘sure, the groom’s out of a tomb.’

‘she’s marrying a creepy old guy.’

‘have you guys seen lolita? this is just like that, but fine.’

‘i know that on the outside he’s disgusting...’

‘even on the inside, he’s disgusting.’

‘i found me a wife.’

‘i was ignored, but now i’m adored.’ 

‘cause i exploited, tortured, and lied.’

‘give it up for my underage bride!’

‘i can’t believe some cultures think this kinda thing’s alright.’

‘doesn’t he deserve a chance at life?’

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp memes #sentence starter meme #tbt.

[scarlet-welly-boots]

[It’s what my heart just yearns to say In ways that can’t be said It’s what my rotting bones will sing When the rest of me is dead It’s what’s engraved upon my heart In letters deeply worn Today I somehow understand the reason I was born Cos outwardly he says I try so hard to make you laugh at me And she, she does, she laughs as though she´s not heard the joke ten thousand times before And he adores her, he watches her get dressed as though she’s hurtling through time Oh, darling please be mine She promises to fight them all when it all becomes too much And he, he curses at the world for leaving him behind and he’s falling out of touch And she is stronger than he’s ever been, he knows And she brushes her hand through his hair, he’s got so much fucking hair And he holds her close just to keep the world at bay And when they’re sure no-one can hear them She’ll turn to him to say, she’ll turn to him and say It’s not fair, it’s not fair how much I love you It’s not fair, cos you make me laugh when I’m actually really fucking cross at you for something And he’ll say Oh how oh how unreasonable How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do I’ll spend my days so close to you cos if I’m standing here maybe everyone will think I’m alright I’ve seen enough he says I know exactly what I want And it’s this life that we’ve created, inundated with the fated thought of you And if you asked me to, if you asked me I would lose it all Like petals in a storm, cos darling I was born To press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading Just to let you know I’m old, waylaid and feels like I am wading into Carpet burns and carousels oh Christ you’ll be the death of me And calm throughout his melodrama she will turn and say ‘dear heart It’s me, its me You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not Cos it’s not like I’ve never heard you fart and snore And for some god forsaken reason I’m still here love like I’ve always been before And he’ll say It’s not fair, It's not fair how much I love you It’s not fair cos you make me weep when I’m just trying to watch The Office with my yoghurt And she’ll say Oh how, oh how unreasonable How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do I’ll spend my days so close to you cos if I’m standing next to you then maybe everyone will think I’m cool How unfair, how unfair they’ll sing as they dance across the darling rooftop wreck He’ll trip and she’ll pretend not to have seen Burying her head into his chest and clinging to the moment, ‘where have you been?’ She’ll whisper ‘I’ve waited oh so long for you to come’ And as the stars above them hum and hear them he’ll turn to her and say ‘that’s what she said’ It’s not fair, it's not fair how much I love you It’s not fair cos you make me ache you bastard And she’ll say Oh how, oh how unreasonable How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do I’ll spend my days so close to you cos if I’m stood here Then I’m stood here And I’ll stand here I’ll stand here with you

~ Fair - The Amazing Devil [The Horror & the Wild - 2020]

#Fair #The Amazing Devil #amazing devil #the horror and the wild

[meowloudly15]

Stranded: Day 6 - SIDE CAR

Hello, I would like to apologise profusely for not having updated this story in three weeks. I'm still alive, so fear not! And be on the lookout for other new stories from me in the near future! But anyway, if you've been patiently awaiting an update, I'm sorry to have left you hanging, and I hope this new chapter is worth it! For all of you, thanks for checking out Stranded, I hope you enjoy it, and I promise to try and do better with updates in the future.

(Also, it low-key stinks that Tumblr removed the line break thing from textposts, or maybe it’s just me)

First | Previous | Next

The school day had finally ended. The weekend had arrived, free for Gwen to exploit to the best of her ability.

She wanted nothing more than to sleep for as long as she could. At the same time, she wanted to relax and swing around the city for a while.

Anyway, there were things that she wanted to check out. Namely, she had a spider-person or two to locate.

Gwen found web-swinging oddly relaxing. There was a rhythm to her motions, although she did love to mix things up. Rhythms, like drumming on her desk or tapping her foot or listening to music, relaxed her. It only made sense that she would feel that way about web-swinging as well.

She watched the city run its course as she passed overhead. Two men got into an argument over a scraped bumper. A woman watered her window box. A group of teens played pick-up basketball around a makeshift hoop ziptied to a lamppost. Sirens blared somewhere far off in the distance. A dog barked. A car alarm went off.

It was a chaotic form of order. There was an odd sort of underlying rhythm. Brooklyn had a heartbeat. The city had a drummer trapped beneath its streets, pounding out a pattern.

None of the activity affected Gwen in any way; it seemed to pass right through her, like the prison door during her atomic disjunction. She wondered if this was how it felt to be a ghost, detached but still present, unnoticed but noticing, trapped behind a cosmic one-way mirror.

DRONING DRONE

Except that she wasn't really detached.

Gwen felt a drone smack into the small of her back. It threw her body and mind out of her rhythm. After catching herself, she alighted onto a water tower and sat down, watching the purple-tinted clouds sail overhead.

It was peaceful outside. It always was, despite the hustle and bustle below. She seemed to rise above it all, leaving humanity and her fears and woes behind and simply being present.

Gwen wondered why she felt so philosophical all of a sudden.

It was time to get back to business. After all, she was going to die soon. She didn't have time for fooling around.

Would she be missed? It wasn't like she had anyone particularly close to her. Besides her family, the only person she could think of who would fit the criterion was Peter. They'd been best friends, had had so much fun together. The insult competitions, the riddle games at which she sucked but he did fairly well, chatting and bothering each other on the bus ride home, visiting each other's houses and meeting his aunt and uncle, sneaking out to the gas station late at night to buy little packs of powdered donuts, trying to figure out how her superpowers worked…

Then he'd died.

Gwen shook her head, as if she could send the thoughts tumbling out of her mind. Death made her morbidly contemplative, and such thoughts only weighed her down. They only held her back. They didn't matter. She needed to bottle up her emotions.

But for some strange reason, Gwen couldn't get herself to completely stop caring.

Was that a bad thing?

Ignoring her conscience, she shielded her eyes and scanned her surroundings. A figure leaped across the skyline. It wasn't so much a splash of colour as it was an absence of one.

Perhaps it was the other spider-person that L- that Dr. Octavius had mentioned?

She leaped off of the water tower and headed towards the figure, well aware that she might be approaching a trap.

Upon reaching the point where she had last spotted the person, Gwen scanned the area and found a strand of webbing. She lifted it and rolled it between her fingers. It felt odd, more like actual spider-silk than the synthetic product that she used. Another visual search yielded no signs of life other than a stray cat padding down a narrow alleyway.

She had lost her mark. She might as well head to Alchemax now and see what she could find.

SIDE CAR

Gwen took off again, heading to one landmark among many. Around her, the streetlights flickered on, casting a yellowish glare over everything and everyone, including the still-smoking car wreck just to the side of the nearby exit ramp.

Wait a second. Smoke? That was not a good sign. She changed her bearing and headed over to it.

Gwen landed on the pavement not far from the car. Muffled whimpering emanated from inside. She ran over to the wreck and peered through the broken dashboard. Trapped inside the car was a young man with shattered glasses, tangled in his seat belt and bleeding profusely from the forehead.

Gwen flipped the car right-side up and tore off the smashed-in driver's side door. The man looked up and yelped in surprise. He started to fumble with the seat belt buckle. Gwen tore out the belt from its attachment point and lifted the man out of the wreck.

"Can you walk?"

The man nodded. "Think so. It's just my arms and face that hurt."

Gwen gently set him down. The young man stumbled briefly and put his hand on her shoulder to steady himself, but he remained upright.

"Th-thank you so much!" he started to babble, hugging Gwen and bloodying part of her suit.

"Don't mention it. It's a miracle you weren't hurt worse."

The man's face suddenly fell. "Oh no, I'm gonna be late for my date. Sonuva… and I was gonna propose to her! Augh!"

Gwen nodded and turned away. "Well, I hope your proposal goes well nevertheless. I'm sure she'll be happy to know that you're still alive and in great condition. Give her a call from the hospital. Have a good night."

She took off and swung towards the Alchemax building.

It felt good to be a hero again. It was always nice to get back into the swing of things, no pun intended.

Gwen did know that this New York already had its own spider-themed vigilante, but she figured she would help where she could for the time being. She had her own goals and deadlines, but doing something good was never a bad thing.

ATOMIC DISJUNCTION

Gwen lost her grip on her webline and plummeted towards the ground some thirty yards below. She managed to regain control of her body, but not before smashing into the roof of a parked Tesla, triggering its burglar alarm.

She couldn't tell if her headache was caused by the collision or by the disjunction, but it didn't really matter. Her everything else ached, too.

She couldn't wait to get out of this God-forsaken dimension. That is, if she ever would.

Gwen pulled herself up from the wreckage, dusting fragments of the roof off of herself. The burglar alarm did not help her headache at all.

Today was really not her day, was it.

Gwen managed to muster enough force of will to stand up and fire a webline at an overhanging street sign. It was funny the way that irony worked. She had just saved a man from a rollover accident, and now she had severely damaged somebody else's car. Maybe she should give up her driver's license so that she wouldn't wreck any more automobiles.

She chuckled at her own sarcastic comment. Her license had taken her too long to get to be given away so wantonly.

Gwen reached Alchemax as the sun dipped below the horizon. She clung to the face of the building and gazed around, trying to locate an entry point.

Something seemed off. Gwen stayed very still and tried to determine what it was. Her spider-sense remained silent, so she assumed her suspicions were either incorrect or not immediately life-threatening.

The skyscraper was vibrating.

She wondered if it was a side-effect of some of the odd technologies that were housed…

Wait, was the dimensional transporter thingamajig causing the vibrations?

She had to get inside.

First | Previous | Next

#spidergwen #spider gwen #gwen stacy #ghost spider #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #spiderverse fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #writing #marvel #blood #injury #spiderverse spoilers #stranded #stranded fanfic

[tigerinthestars]

What Can Go Wrong Part II

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple heist spirals out of control. Everything seems to be going from bad to worse. What was Murphy's Law again?

Also, the one where Jeremy saves you from certain death.

Pairing: FAHC!Jeremy x FAHC!Reader

Words: 1,804

Warnings: Language and violence.

A/N: I changed my mind, I’m posting Part 2 today and the final part tomorrow just ‘cause. Enjoy!

Part 2 to this train wreck. Things get worse.

Sorrynotsorry.

Y/C/N = Your Criminal Name (or nick name… whatever)

Read it on AO3!

Part I ~ Part III

You awoke to the sensation of being dragged. Your eyes blinked sluggishly in the bright light. Your ears rang something terrible. As the world slowly became clearer, you recognized voices and gunfire and your eyes fell on the sight of the burning husk of a car. Your mind took its time playing catch up before your name being repeated registered in your head.

“Y/N? Y/N! You gotta wake up, babe. No sleeping on the job.”

You knew that voice. You groaned at the pounding in your head that flared up at that moment. Jeremy. Your head swam as you attempted to concentrate on the world around you.

“Yeah, there you are.” The dragging sensation stopped, and a person entered your field of vision.

“Where’re your sunglasses? You look funny.” You slurred at him with squinty eyes, gesturing with a single finger in his direction which lazily circled in the air in front of his face.

Jeremy laughed from behind a bandanna, “I don’t think that’s what you need to be worried about right now.” He took a pause to look around, noting the increase of cops closing in on your position. “We gotta keep moving. Can you stand?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes, “I better be able to ‘cause I sure as hell am not gonna be carried by any of y’all.”

“Alright, fair enough. Up you go!” Jeremy hooked his hands under your arms and lifted you up slowly, grunting with effort, and you helped as best you could getting your legs underneath you.

“There we are. You good?” Jeremy gave you a once over, noting how unsteady you were on your feet.

“Yeah, just give me a sec,” you huffed, using Jeremy’s shoulder to steady yourself.

“We don’t have a sec,” Ryan shouted over his shoulder, “We need to move. Now.” An explosion rocked the ground as a helicopter came crashing down not far behind you, accentuating Ryan’s point.

“In what?” You yelled back. “There’s nowhere to run!”

“Gavin’s getting a car, move up so we’re ready to bolt as soon as he gets here.”

“Fucking hell, this all went to shit, huh?” You said to Jeremy as he helped you walk towards Ryan.

“You can say that again.” Jeremy replied, nudging you this way and that to keep you from tripping over debris, the sound of crunching glass accompanied every step.

“I’ve been saying it all damn day.”

The firefight Ryan was engaged in was slowly growing as more and more police cars pulled up, trying to corner your group. Jeremy took up post next to him, providing extra cover fire.

You leaned yourself on the railing a couple feet away. You rubbed at your temples as the sound of another helicopter registered in your foggy head. When you looked for it, you noticed it was a news chopper, not a police copper. You scrunched up your nose and gave them the finger, sticking your tongue out for good measure. Hope that looks good on TV.

You then turned back to the immediate threat, realizing then that your gun was no longer in your hand. It must have fallen from your hand when the car flipped. No way you’re looking for it now.

“I don’t have a gun.” You announced, hoping at least one of them had an extra.

“We don’t have anymore. Just stay low and try not to get shot.” Jeremy answered over his shoulder.

“Right, I can do that,” you mumbled to yourself, hunkering down where you were for the time being. Hopefully Gav won’t be long, the asphalt and barrier aren’t exactly comfortable, and your head still hurt. You probably have a concussion, you thought bitterly to yourself. Just the cherry on top of this very shitty sundae. It’s not even fucking Sunday so you can make that joke, dammit!

As you sat mopping to yourself, the shootout went on while Gavin searched for a car. A minute passes, which feels like an eternity on this god forsaken freeway, and you begin to hear activity behind you. At least, you think you do. Leaning up to peak behind the barrier you were kneeling against gave you full view of the large median between you and an on ramp. That median was now flooded with police closing in on your position, closing in really fucking fast. You felt your stomach drop at the sight, the scene reminding you a bit of the Walking Dead or some shit like that.

“Cops on our six!” You yelled, “Closing in fast!”

Immediately, Jeremy and Ryan whirled around, quickly taking in their new predicament. You were already getting your feet under you, so you were ready to run at a moment’s notice. The two men by your side began firing into the new group of cops as well, but the ones that had creeped up on your rear were much too close. You found yourself trying to calm yourself once again as you felt your heart and breathing rate increase under the new stress.

“Y/N! Watch out!” Jeremy suddenly called out.

Your eyes flew open, you don’t even remember closing them, finding Jeremy easily before tracking left in the direction he was aiming where you saw the reason for the alarm. Cops were creeping around the barrier, which ended a few feet from where you were crouched. From that position they could clearly see and shoot you without anything getting in the way. You need to move. Now.

You pushed off the ground, trying to make a run for new cover, but they were already shooting at you. You knew there was no way you would escape this without at least a bullet wound or two. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of purple take up half your vision. Jeremy had darted towards you, a hand pushing you forward knocked you off balance and you landed rather gracelessly on the pavement. When you looked back up, a witty remark on the tip of your tongue, but you no longer saw Jeremy standing behind you. Instead you say his body lurch as a bullet ripped straight through his torso and he fell in slow motion, his hat toppled from his head and the bandanna he tied around his face fell awkwardly as he hit the ground hard.

You felt the blood drain from your face, you felt your heart stop, you felt your mind freeze. Everything around you were frozen in time. You're eyes stung as you refused to close them as the shock at what you saw rolled over you. 

No.

"Shit, Rimmy!" Ryan yelled from behind you, but you couldn't even bring yourself to look in his direction, let alone speak to him.

Jeremy's been shot. He took a bullet for you. You'd always joked about this sort of thing happening but never had it actually happen before. Your chest hurt, you couldn't breathe, and you felt a familiar lump form in your throat. 

Why?

Gavin pulled up in a new car, bullet holes already riddled the car and blood was drying on the bumper. He stepped out immediately and began providing cover fire, "We need to get out of here!"

It was then that Ryan stepped in front of you, making his way towards Jeremy. You noticed that the gunfire had significantly lessened. Courtesy of Ryan, you figured. You couldn't bring yourself to move an inch, the horror of what you witnessed still hadn't fully registered in your brain. Was it fatal? Is he dead? Why isn't Ryan saying anything? What's going on? 

Please, no!

"Jer?"  You whispered to no one. Tears began trail down your face and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. When Ryan began lifting Jeremy's lifeless body in his arms, a sob was torn from your throat.

"We need to go!" Gavin was next to you now, his hand wrapped around your upper arm. You used his grip as leverage to stand but immediately shook his grip off. You walked away from him, hearing his protests, and leaned down to pick up the cowboy hat that had fallen forgotten on the pavement. Then you turned to follow the Golden Boy silently to the car, barely able to make out the blurred shapes with all the tears falling from your eyes.

You numbly made your way to the passenger seat, Ryan placed Jeremy in the back and sat with him. Probably trying to stop the bleeding. No one spoke as Gavin began to make for a retreat.

It was in that moment you noticed a black SUV pulled up alongside you, a familiar black SUV. It belonged to the Fakes. The windows rolled down revealing members of B Team. No wonder the police had backed off, your back up had arrived. Another black SUV pulled up along the other side of your getaway vehicle, you didn't have to look to know that there was a third trailing behind you. B Team formed became an escort to guide Gavin and the rest of you back to the pent house quickly and safely to get Jeremy the help he needed as soon as possible.

Gavin drove as quickly as possible back to base, his shoulders drawn tense and his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The drive passed in shocked silence with only your choked sobs to break it as you tried your best to hold your distress inside. In your hands was Jeremy's hat, your grip on the brim was almost painful. You couldn't bring yourself to look behind you, to look at Jeremy or Ryan as he did his best to keep Jeremy alive. You couldn’t ask if he was already gone or if he was doing okay. You just couldn't.

Your car was guided below the building, into the garage under the pent house. There were a group of people stood waiting for you at the end of the garage by the elevator and the door to the infirmary. You saw a stretcher and your crew doctors, Caleb and Kdin, with their team of nurses next to them. You also saw Geoff, Jack, and Michael. It brought you some relief to know that they made it out alright, only minor cuts and bruises and soot proving they ever left this pent house in the first place.

As soon as the car stopped, the back-seat door was opened, and Ryan was stepping out to help them get Jeremy on the stretcher, Gavin had already made it to the other side of the car. You didn't even acknowledge the commotion around you. You just lowered your head to the hat in your hands. You no longer had the strength to fight your tears, your strength dissipated by the sight of home.

#achievement hunter fanfiction #jeremy dooley x reader #jeremy dooley imagine #fahc #fake ah crew #reader insert #part 2 of 3 #complete #fahc jeremy

[theonyxpath]

Above is a piece of art by Michael Gaydos from Beckett’s Jyhad Diary, which is going live on DTRPG Wednesday so you can get the PDF and/or the physical copy, PoD versions if you didn’t back the Kickstarter. For backers, you’ve already received the backer PDF, and we’ll be sending out a link to DTRPG to get the PoD at a reduced cost if you want to. Your Deluxe version is going to press, and will come to you once we get it all printed up!

Matthew Dawkins, one of the book’s writers and devs, posted this “making of” blog about Beckett’s Jyhad Diary last week: http://theonyxpath.com/writing-and-developing-an-epic-sourcebook-v20-becketts-jyhad-diary/

This week is a bit of a short one, and next week I may or may not be able to get this posted on Monday, but expect it Tuesday for sure. Unless weather issues strand me in Milwaukee, and then all bets are off!

Of course, if you are some of the folks who usually read this on Tuesday, then expect it later in the day. Probably.

The reason for our schedule shifting is, as long-time readers know, our annual trip to the MidWinter Convention in Milwaukee. This year is even more special than previous years, because most of our in-house Onyx Path folks are going to be there this year, as well as a whole bunch of our freelance creators, and then our Onyx crew are staying an extra day to have our yearly summit.

So, there will be the usual yearly wacky posts from Maders German Restaurant, and probably from the Safe House, where Mirthful Mike will have a Spy’s Demise cocktail after 17 years (he says). I expect a lot of nostalgia waves from the Mirthful One, as Milwaukee was where White Wolf first attended Gen Con back in the dim mists of time. I expect he and I will pour one for Stewart Wieck at Major Goolsby’s, the first food place WW could afford to eat at (besides fast food) at the con.

At the con, we’ll have our booth in the exhibitor’s hall, and the Wrecking Crew will be running games throughout in the Oak Room. We also have our own table in the Oak Room, and we’ll have various Onyx folks demoing games there as well. Plus, there are our events, including the intimate Onyx Path Q&A in the Founders Room, which is like an Ask Me Anything but face-to-face. With drinks. I think that is sold out as it is a limited seating event, but we also have our Top Secret Announcement panel on Friday at 12 noon which is regular seating, I think, that will be a fun thing in itself, and a chance to ask us general questions, too!

      Trinity Continuum art by Marco Mazzoni

      And then there is the Summit.

Now this is not a new thing, but I found that doing it as we have been, after dinner one night at GenCon every year, was really not conducive to bringing forth sparkling fresh ideas. We were tired and full of dinner (and drinks), and often trying to squeeze the Summit in between other engagements. Not really the uber-focused strategy sessions we were looking for. But GenCon was the one time we were all already together, so it made sense. Of a kind.

This year, though, after looking at the possibilities, it just made more sense to switch our full attendance con to MidWinter and for everyone to stay over an extra day so we could really devote some intense time to our review and planning. The hotel prices and the con prices, and cooperation of the great folks from MidWinter (Hi, Anne and Bill!), really made this Summit something we could do at MidWinter this year.

Because, while we have learned to work quite well with email and texts and Skype, I think we sort of need to recharge our human communications batteries at least once a year in order to provide a physical memory or impression of folks so that we can draw on that connection when the emails fly back and forth fast and furious.

      Vinsen’s Tomb art by Pat Loboyko

    Ben Monk, the lead finance guy at WW for just years, used to love to quote that human communication was 87% body language. I think we could swing that percentage around a bit, but if it’s even a little bit so, then you’d think that only communicating with text would only impart so much info, and voice-only communication would be a bit better, and video-conferencing would be a bit better still. But not the full 87%, or whatever it is.

By getting together, we are reminded of all the other times we have been together over a lot of years. For good or ill, they are still shared experiences, and then those impressions of that person color and inform subsequent messages. Like have you ever read an email and could just hear the other person’s voice as you read it? That sort of thing.

So, we’ll be sitting around a conference room, and we’ve got some presentations prepared to share. We’re going to try to keep the grousing and gossiping about our industry down, but, we’ll see. Financial info, a look at the past year of releases, a little team building exercise using the dreaded Quadrants, how we can better prepare and actually train our developers, and then, as I like us to do as a group every year, we’ll discuss and decide on our release strategies for 2018 and into ’19.

Because at the end of the day, our joy is to put plans in place so we can create all these amazing games for all of you, and live up to our motto:

Many Worlds, One Path!

    BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

The Trinity Continuum Kickstarter will go live in a few weeks in January! Trinity Continuum: Aeon, is our reboot of the classic Trinity (Aeon) game, and Trinity Continuum: Core is the core book that all of our Trinity Continuum game lines will spin off from. Both books will be a part of this Kickstarter. James Bell, our Kickstarter Manager, has got some fun ideas in store for how to run this KS, so we hope you’ll check it out!

    As we try and find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking! It just has had its biggest update yet! There’s been tweaks to all elements of the UI, you can now preview every die type in the store, and you can use multiple die types per roll! Here are the links for the Apple and Android versions:

http://theappstore.site/app/1296692067/onyx-dice

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.onyxpathpublishing.onyxdice&hl=en

Three different screenshots, above.

(The Solar Anima special Dice)

    ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

We’re delighted to announce the opening of our ebook stores on Amazon and Barnes & Noble! You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble). Our initial selection includes these fiction anthologies:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Endless Ages Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Rites of Renown: When Will You Rage II (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Ascension: Truth Beyond Paradox (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: The God-Machine Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Curse of the Blue Nile (Kindle, Nook)

Beast: The Primordial: The Primordial Feast Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

  And here are six more fiction books:

Vampire: The Masquerade: Of Predators and Prey: The Hunters Hunted II Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: The Poison Tree (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Songs of the Sun and Moon: Tales of the Changing Breeds (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: The Strix Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Forsaken: The Idigam Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Awakening: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

  Andand six more more:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Beast Within Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: W20 Cookbook (Kindle, Nook)

Exalted: Tales from the Age of Sorrows (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Tales of the Dark Eras (Kindle, Nook)

Promethean: The Created: The Firestorm Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Demon: The Descent: Demon: Interface (Kindle, Nook)

  And even more books are now on Amazon and the Nook store!:

Scarred Lands: Death in the Walled Warren (Kindle, Nook)

V20 Dark Ages: Cainite Conspiracies (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Strangeness in the Proportion (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: Silent Knife (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Dawn of Heresies (Kindle, Nook)

    OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there!

https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

    Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Here’s the link to the press release we put out about how Onyx Path is now selling through Indie Press Revolution: http://theonyxpath.com/press-release-onyx-path-limited-editions-now-available-through-indie-press-revolution/

You can now order wave 2 of our Deluxe and Prestige print overrun books, including Deluxe Mage 20th Anniversary, and Deluxe V20 Dark Ages! And Screens…so many Screens!

And you can now order Pugmire: the book, the screen, and the dice! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

    DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

    This Wednesday, one of the most legendary of Kindred will share his personal journal with you! V20 Beckett’s Jyhad Diary goes on sale in PDF and PoD versions on DTRPG.com!

It’s ever been a loaded word among vampires. Jyhad is in force everywhere from lofty, perfumed Elysium to cloying, smoke-filled blood feasts. Jyhad’s the eternal game played by elders, Methuselahs, and worse — it’s the agenda of beings so utterly beyond humanity, one such as yourself could scarcely understand its movements. 

Luckily for you, you’ve picked up a copy of my diary. With my help you may just take a step on the first rung of understanding. Information worth having is information you must earn through blood, and oh, how I’ve bled for what’s contained within these pages. 

— Beckett 

Beckett’s Jyhad Diary serves as the definitive book of setting and plot for Vampire: The Masquerade, containing 30 chapters spanning different geographical regions, encountering vampires of every clan, profiling obscure and profound segments of the mythology, and providing countless story hooks on every page.

Masterfully written by the likes of Neall Raemonn Price, Joshua Alan Doetsch, Myranda Sarro, Steffie de Vaan, Malcolm Sheppard, Alan Alexander, Renee Knipe, and Matthew Dawkins, Beckett’s Jyhad Diary is as fascinating to read as to use for your game Chronicles.

      With a howl of RAGE, the W20 Changing Ways Advance PDF charges at you this Wednesday on DTRPG.com!

Changing Ways is an in-depth look at what it means to be a werewolf, both on a personal level and as part of a pack. It digs deep into what it feels like to have bones re-knit after breaking, the range of senses available across all forms, and the sudden heady rush of the Gifts and Rites bestowed by spirits. It also provides a look at what life is like for lupus and metis werewolves, characters who have had experiences alien to any person. It shows the many ways that werewolves organize in packs, and how those packs are designed as groups of warriors, rather than aligned to the behavior of wolves.

Changing Ways contains:

• A detailed look at what it means to grow up as a lupus or metis werewolf, and how that colors a character’s perspective.

• More information on what it feels like to be a werewolf, a creature that changes in both body and mind.

• Frameworks and organizations for packs, along with new tactics and systems for forging the pack as part of play.

      Arriving at DTRPG.com this Wednesday, and soon to your tables: The M20 Mage Cookbook!

Food is Life 

We are what we eat. As mages throughout history have realized, the foods that sustain our bodies sustain enlightenment as well. Such foods become extensions of the people and cultures that create them. Now Brother Oliver Lyon, Knight Templar and a humble baker’s son, travels around the world hunting the Fallen and gathering fine recipes along the way.

Enchanting Recipes 

From Mandarin lion’s heads to alchemical booze, Brother Oliver’s collection of delicious recipes spans the cultural realms of Mage’s human world. Among these many culinary concoctions, you’ll find:

Lobster Bisque

Angel Torte

Chicken Nanban

Corn Fufu

Beef Wellingtons

Battenburg Cake

Cannibal Stew, and so much more

Feed Your Body, Feed Your Soul 

The M20 Mage Cookbook is a non-canon but tasty culinary perspective on the world of Mage: The Ascension

        The world of Pugmire comes alive in this full cast audio drama experience “Thank You, Darcy Cat” available now on DTRPG.com! http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/226921/Pugmire-Thank-You-Darcy-Cat

The police dogs have called Alistair Afghan to discuss the crimes of his valet, Darcy Cat. But this misunderstanding leads to the discovery of a deadly secret deep in the heart of Pugmire society. Will Alistair and Darcy be able to save Pugmire from this threat?

Created by Audioblivious Productions in conjunction with Pugsteady. Check out Audioblivious at https://www.audioblivious.com/!

    We unveil Vampire: The Requiem 2e‘s Half-Damned as an Advance PDF on DTRPG.com!

http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/227500/Half-Damned

I love her, she’s family, but I don’t love what she is.

– Antonio Ramírez, dhampir

This book includes: 

• An exploration of what it means to be one of the Half-Damned, dhampir, revenants or ghouls.

• Mechanics for creating Half-Damned characters.

• Information for creating and running chronicles using the various Half-Damned character types, both with vampires and alone.

• Information on Half-Damned antagonists for vampire chronicles.

      Legacy of Lies, the V20 Dark Ages Jumpstart, goes undead in PDF and physical book PoD versions on DTRPG:

http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/222956/Legacy-of-Lies-A-V20-Dark-Ages-Jumpstart

TWO PRINCES. BITTER RIVALS. AND A COTERIE CAUGHT BETWEEN THEM. 

Marcus Verus, the vampiric Prince of Chester, secretly prepares to go into torpor. Should his plans be made public, the Prince knows the wolves — both real and imagined — would launch an attack, threatening all within his domain.

That’s where you come in.

Legacy of Lies includes:

Basic rules for players and Storytellers

Introduction to the Vampire: The Masquerade Dark Ages setting

Introductory adventure

Characters for players and Storytellers

      Appearing on DriveThruRPG is the Advance PDF for Arms of the Chosen for Exalted 3rd Edition! http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/226224/Arms-of-the-Chosen

Take up the panoply of legendary heroes and lost ages, and awaken the world-shaking might of their Evocations. Before the dawn of time, the Exalted wielded god-metal blades to cast down the makers of the universe. In an ancient epoch of forgotten glories, Creation’s greatest artificers forged unimaginable wonders and miracle-machines.

Now, in the Age of Sorrows, kingdoms go to war over potent artifacts, scavenger princes risk everything to uncover relics of the past, and the Exalted forge great arms and armor on the anvil of legend. These treasures are yours to master.

Discover the mystical power of the five magical materials and the secrets of creating your own Evocations. Wield weapons of fabled might and don the armor of mythic heroes, making their puissance your own. Claim Creation’s wonders: the miraculous tools of the Chosen, living automatons, flying machines, hearthstones, and more. And unleash the mighty warstriders, titanic god-engines of conquest and devastation, to once more shake Creation with their footfalls.

          What dark secrets do the eldest vampires hold? Find out in Thousand Years of Night for Vampire: The Requiem! PDF and physical book PoD versions available on DriveThruRPG.com. http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/214130/Thousand-Years-of-Night

You may think that with a multitude of people coming, going, dying and running away, we’d be tired, done, or ready to give up. Instead, I find myself restless, looking for the next thing.  There’s always a next thing, and I for one am not yet ready to die.

– Elder Kincaid, Daeva Crone

This book includes:

• Detailed instructions on creating elder vampires, including how to base chronicles around them

• A look into the lives of elders, how they spend their nights, who they work with, and why including their roles in both their clans and covenants

• New Devotions, Merits, and Rituals for elder vampires

• The kinds of creatures that pose a threat to elder vampires, including Inamorata, Lamia, Sons of Phobos, a new elder conspiracy, and more!

      Is a life of running and hiding a life worth living? We say yes. There’s always something between the running and the hiding, and those moments of grace make it all worthwhile.

The Huntsmen Chronicle Anthology is a perfect companion piece to Changeling: The Lost, 2nd Edition. These stories spin tales of the Lost, of those abducted and enslaved by fairies. Those who escaped, but whose captors will stop at nothing to find them. These fairies summon forth the Huntsmen, primordial hunters who understand nothing but pursuit and capture. The Huntsmen are unstoppable monsters, and the Lost can only look to each other for respite, rare comfort, and rarer trust.

The Hedge has parted and you can get the Advance PDF of The Huntsmen Chronicle Fiction Anthology for Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition at DTRPG.com! http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/210042/The-Huntsmen-Chronicle-Anthology

          A Land Where Legends Walk

Drawing enthusiastically on Greek mythology, the revised and re-imagined Scarred Lands nonetheless retains its place as a modern fantasy RPG setting. This is a world shaped by gods and monsters, and only the greatest of heroes can expect to be counted among them. The most populous continent of Scarn, Ghelspad, plays host to vast unexplored regions, hides unsolved riddles from ancient cultures, and taunts adventures with the promise of undiscovered riches hidden among the ruins of older civilizations.

Yet the myths of the Scarred Lands are relatively recent events. The effects of the Titanswar still ripple through the world, and the heroines and villains of many of these stories are part of living memory, if not still living.

The Award-Winning Fantasy Setting Returns

Scarred Lands has been a favorite fantasy setting since the release of the Creature Collection for the d20 System in 2000. In subsequent years, over 40 titles were published for Scarred Lands, making it one of the most fully supported fantasy RPG settings ever and the premiere product line of Sword & Sorcery Studios.

Available in both 5th Edition and Pathfinder compatible versions! PDF and PoD formats available NOW!

http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/193014/Scarred-Lands-Players-Guide-Pathfinder

http://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/197803/Scarred-Lands-Players-Guide-OGL-5e

      CONVENTIONS!

Midwinter Game Convention in Milwaukee, January 11-14 is THIS week! It’s where we’re going to be bringing a big crew of many of your favorite Onyx Path designers and we’ll be running demos and making some special announcements at the show!  http://midwintergamingconvention.com

    And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM ROLLICKING ROSE (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

M20 Gods and Monsters (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

C20 Novel (Jackie Cassada) (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Guide to the Night (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

  Redlines

  Second Draft

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Monarchies of Mau (Monarchies of Mau)

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

They Came From Beneath the Sea! Rulebook (TCFBtS!)

  Development

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

SL Ring of Spiragos (Pathfinder – Scarred Lands 2nd Edition)

Ring of Spiragos (5e – Scarred Lands 2nd Edition)

Scion: Hero (Scion 2nd Edition) – with Neall for some tweaks

Trinity Continuum Core Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Trinity Continuum: Aeon Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

GtS Geist 2e core (Geist: the Sin-Eaters Second Edition)

Night Horrors: The Tormented (Promethean: The Created 2nd Edition)

  WW Manuscript Approval:

  Editing:

Ex Novel 2 (Aaron Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Kithbook Boggans (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Scion: Origin (Scion 2nd Edition)

Exalted 3rd Novel by Matt Forbeck (Exalted 3rd Edition)

  Post-Editing Development:

Changeling: the Lost 2nd Edition, featuring the Huntsmen Chronicle (Changeling: the Lost 2nd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Pan’s Guide for New Pioneers (Pugmire)

The Realm (Exalted 3rd Edition)

  Indexing:

    ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Cavaliers of Mars – New art getting assigned.

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Scion Origin – Last of the art getting assigned.

Ring of Spiragos 

Changeling: the Lost 2

Trinity Continuum – Stuff coming in.

Ex3 Dragon Blooded – Sending feedback to cartographer for map, color sketches to devs.

Pugmire – Pan’s Explorer’s Guide (or whatever) – Should all be in by the end of the month.

Boggans – Art notes out this week.

  Marketing Stuff

  In Layout

Pugmire/Scarred Lands Community Content – working on the logo.

Book of Freeholds – With Mark

Pugmire Fetch Quest – Printing out rulebooks at Kinkos for MidWinter.

Pugmire – Vinsen’s Tomb – Notes are out. Need to input the changes on the first proof.

Wraith 20 Screen – Got Dansky’s list in.

Dice Packaging – Knocking those out before we leave.

  Proofing

Wraith 20 – Making fixes from WW.

Beast PG

DtD Enemy Action – With Josh

  At Press

Beckett Screen – Shipped to shipper.

Scarred Land PGs & Wise and the Wicked PF & 5e – To fulfillment shipper. PDF and PoD physical book versions on sale at DTRPG.

Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition) – Deluxe Edition cover and Screen in the works. Printer starting to assemble books.

Prince’s Gambit – Printer files sent. Uploaded updated epub, fixed layout epub, mobi, and PDF quickstart rules… should be able to use those on phones and tablets. The epub versions look nice on my iPad... 

CtL Huntsmen Chronicle Anthology  – PoD Files ordered.

V20 Beckett’s Jyhad Diary– PDF and PoD versions on sale Wednesday, the 10th.

C20 Ready Made Characters – Errata fixing.

Ex 3 Arms of the Chosen – Errata changes being input.

Pugmire Artisan Cards – PoD proofs ordered.

Pugmire Shepherd Cards – PoD proofs ordered.

Pentex Indoctrination Manual – PoD proofs ordered.

VtR Half Damned – PoD proofs ordered.

  TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: Headed to MidWinter with almost every one of our Onyx Path crew, and we’re going to do the con thing and then sit down together and review our last few years together and plan for more. As a group, face to face, which is not how we are set up as a company: so that is in itself a cause to celebrate!

#Onyx Path Publishing

[deckspair]

Systemic Shock || Neo || Trial 6-1 || Re: Shinobu, Evangeline, Chouko

“I confess.”

The words come from the gaunt, tired-looking blonde, the last of his kind -- and to wit the last of his orphanage now, there was no way any of them could afford a ticket if even Shinobu’s well-off parents couldn’t. “I’m the one behind all of this and I did it because I wanted people to feel sorry for me before I killed them all.” Neo says in an utterly monotone voice, holding up both of his hands in surrender despite the obvious strain. His body looks absolutely wrecked now that he’s not even trying to look healthy -- what was the point? He was long overdue and the only reason he refused to die seemed to be because he still had things to do. “And I also made the first motive pudding because it was the last real treat I had and turned to despair when it turned nasty and led to abnormal side-effects.”

He waits for someone to challenge him. Whether it’s because his confession had been too insincere, or worse they actually believed him and didn’t know what to respond to that with, Neo sighs. “Obviously, it’s not that simple. And pressuring people into giving up what they won’t or even can’t admit will just end the same. The problem with having our memories wiped is that there’s a chance one of us was responsible and doesn’t even know it -- and aside from Eva-san who can’t possibly be the mastermind anyways... I think... all four of us happen to fall into the neat little category of having loved ones who didn’t make it on board... or no loved ones alive to speak of.” Depressing at it is, that’s the unfortunate truth.

“So instead of going around beating people up, let’s get back to the discussion. Besides, I’d prefer to die in a little less pain, not that I would really be able to tell the difference.” Neo coughs loudly, wiping away his palm on his trousers despite the telltale stickiness and what it meant. “Shinobu-niisan, what the robots said:”

“Well, I think it’s about time that we let you tadpoles in on a little secret. We’re not the worst. Far from it, kero!”

“Us Bots can’t do much without orders from a higher-up!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! There’s a liar among you cute, little tadpoles. One of you has been pulling the strings behind the scenes all along: a Mastermind.”

“Some of you have even already spoken to them with their pretenses stripped away! Through me, of course. if you had an appointment with me, you’ve probably spoken to them.”

Taking a laboured breath to steady himself, Neo leans against his podium as he continues onwards. “Speech patterns aside, that is word-for-word what FrogBot said about the traitor within the class during the end of the third trial. At the time, we’d assumed they had to have been one of us, but now that we know the class isn’t as small as the eighteen we... started with, that opens up new possibilities. And... And it also connects something else that’s... bugged me, ever since they, that is to say, FrogBot, came to me with an offer they thought I couldn’t refuse.”

“Have you ever wondered, Enjou-kun, whether it was possible to bring a mind into a new body?”

“If you could place her memories into a living, healthy body on this ship, and you couldn’t use yourself, who would you trade to have her back? What would you give to have her whole?”

“You don’t know anything about loss. You lost a girl you only knew for a few months, kero. Your pain? It doesn’t compare to what I’ve been through.”

“But you’re so selfish, thinking about Nonoka. So, so selfish...”

“At the time. I thought they were just taunting me. I wouldn’t have accepted, if it was the first question that came to mind -- aside from the fact that it wouldn’t be the same Nonoka I’ve loved and still love, she wouldn’t want me to sacrifice you or your body for her.” He pauses. “But that doesn’t mean someone else needed to make that sacrifice in order to transfer minds. If they’re talking bio-synthetic transferal like I imagine they are, they could just as easily transfer a soul, a mind or however you wish to view the human conscience into the body of a robot. It’s just as simple to take part of our erased memories, or even the people who were erased from our memories, whether it be ourselves or someone else, and stick it in those bots so that they ended up that more familiar. That means we have four different possibilities to consider in light of everything Shinobu-niisan and Eva-san have found.” Neo holds up a finger, resting his elbow on the podium desk so he doesn’t have to exert more energy than is necessary. 

“The first, and still definite possibility, is that one of us is the Mastermind and they are fully aware of it. It could be Shinobu-niisan, though I highly doubt that given that they’re the only person left on this god-forsaken submersible I trust. While it’s shouldn’t be Eva-san, the fact that she doesn’t remember everything means that she falls into another category, but I’ll talk about that later. Three of us remain, and Suido-san,” he turns to look at the much taller boy next to him. “Suido-san would have a good reason to strike back: none of the files within the survivors contain Himawari-san’s name. Of course, I would like to hold out some measure of hope he’s alive, for his sake, but if it is a possibility then a possibility it stands. Neither Ishihara-san nor I have any close family to speak of or remember -- while we don’t have a strong motive, we also can’t be ruled out. Me especially, since those were, or rather are, my syringes. All of them are of the same kind that I use for clofarabine.”

He breathes, holding up a peace sign for ‘two’. “The second possibility is that the Mastermind is still one of us... but they’ve transferred everything about them that made them the mastermind onto FrogBot. Essentially, they’re the tomato in the metaphorical mirror: they don’t know they’re the mastermind, and we would still be speaking to them in the truth since they’re a part of FrogBot now. That means anyone of us could be them, including even Eva-san, but I don’t think this is the case because the way FrogBot has spoken implies the Mastermind was making conscious decisions about the game as it progressed. It’s not like the Bots were doing everything on their own, and if the Bots were an extension of their voice, then it implies that even now, they’re still taking orders from someone or acting with someone’s orders and conscience in mind. But I’m keeping it an open possibility until it’s proven not to be.”

Neo folds another finger up. “The third is that one of our deceased classmates has been the Mastermind and is acting from afar. A number of our friends also didn’t have their relatives boarding the vessels, so that brings to mind a number of people, and two stand out. The first is McCrae-san: we only knew him for just a couple of hours, and Eva-san has and will never have met him. She wouldn’t be able to vouch if that was the real McCrae-san who was stabbed -- it could’ve been someone posing as him, which would also explain why SpiderBot  had reacted and stabbed them, since he wasn’t McCrae-san to start with. The other one is... is... Akira-neechan, since she’s the only other person whose death happened away from any one witness, but that brings up even more questions. Why would she allow Lotte-san to die, when she was the person who reminded her of Jean, who’s probably dead if the rostered guests are anything to go by? Why would she have attacked SpiderBot when she could have had FrogBot kill them like they did two weeks ago? Why lose her temper if she was already in the process of watching the rest of us die, since that appears to be their goal? And if the body in... in the aftermath was a duplicate, because it wasn’t and Shinobu-niisan can vouch it’s... it’s her, then what was the point of allowing herself to be killed? It doesn’t make any logical sense... and she wouldn't lie to Shinobu-niisan or me, not after how hurt she was that... I lied to her face about me being sick...”

He takes a long breath, reaching the dizzying conclusion on his long theory.

“The last possibility, and the one I’m starting to believe in is truer by the second, is that the Mastermind is one of the classmates we never met. The ones in the class photo and roster that didn’t make it to the eighteen. That because of a surprise attack on us, they turned vengeful and wanted us to suffer like they did. Because Shinobu-niisan cleaned up those logs, I’m starting to see similarities in the speech patterns there and the affectations from any of the three robots -- besides, it would also explain why they claim to have felt loss on board even if they’ve supposedly only been AI. The people in that chatlog were working for a common goal, all of them speaking to each other like they knew each other for longer than we have right now. Chelbamy comes to mind, obviously, but there’s also their friends, who pop up again in the second log. Losing any one of them would hurt the others, and having to watch the rest of us get along while they’re reminded that their own friends died in whatever the hell happened to wipe our memories of what happened in here? That could drive anyone mad...”

He glances downwards. “It would also explain the purpose of that macabre chair downstairs in the pod room: could the helmet-like contraption be a transference or memory-modification device? But to continue, it would also explain the other rooms on the third floor, the ones that didn’t seem like they had been touched or lived in despite all the luggage still remaining. Along with how we got the trivia question of how many SHSLs were on board wrong. There’s enough evidence scattered around to suggest Eva-san isn’t the only member of our classmates who’s coasted to this very mastermind trial, which no amount of threatening will coerce them into talking since they aren’t even here.” Neo groans, placing his head against the cold wood. Earth, please swallow him now, this was too much. “What’s stopping them from making our situation hopeless and forcing us to bank on a slim chance like everything else in this ship? Who’s to say they even want to let us leave or live? Don’t they want us to die, or did the plan change while I wasn’t looking because I was grieving the people who should’ve been here to help us make sense of all of this?”

#submission #tsuneo #chapter 6 #trial 6