#ghost wrote this over my shoulder and screamed at my referencing

[constantlymisspelled]

The SUPERCOMMANDO CODEX - DRAFT

CONTENTS

Mandalorian Code Interpretation [link is found here]

Strength is Life

Honor is Life

Loyalty is Life

Death is Life

2. Honourable Conduct [link is found here]

Honour in self

Honour in the Community

Honour in the Galaxy

Honour Amongst Clan

Honour in Partnership

Honour in Leadership

Honour in Combat

3. Adoption Law [link is found here]

The Legal Definition of Foundling

Foundling Procedure

Disownment of Parent

Community Adoption

Adoption regarding criminal activities

Adoption regarding marital conditions

Adoption Consent

4. Marriage and Divorce [link is found here]

Spouse Definition

Spousal Privileges

Conditions for Legal Engagement

Consent and Age Restrictions

Conditions for Legal Marriage

Conditions for Legal Divorce

Children, Clan and House Considerations

5. Resolnare [link is found here]

The Six Tennent’s Broader accepted conditions

Way Followers Interpretation

Naasaade Interpretation and Redemption of Vows

Noncombatant Interpretations

The Mandalorian Healer’s Code

The Mandalorian Armourer's Code

Codes recognised in Conjunction

6. Clan and House [link is found here]

Definition of House

Responsibilities of House

Definition of Clan

Responsibilities of Clan

Requirements needed to be declared Alor of Clan

Requirements needed to be declared Alor of House

Requirements needed to be declared a Major House

7. Language Protectorate [link is found here]

Mando’a in Practice

Rights to change, add or remove words

Script usage and recognition in Mandalorian Space

8. The Position of Manda’lor [link is found here]

Requirements needed to be a candidate for Manda’lor

Responsibilities

Oversight

Commanding body

Restrictions, Compliance and Declarations of Misconduct

9. Education and Cultural development [link is found here]

The Education Responsibilities of Clans

The Education responsibilities of Schools and facilities

Freed Re-education programs and foundations

Religious and cultural rights within education systems

Parental rights throughout education

10. Electoral Process [link is found here]

The Court of Houses

The Sector Governors

The System Governors

The Astro Body Governors

District Electoral Members

Electoral Voters

Voting conditions

Overseers of the Ballot

Postal Elections

Voting Eligibility

Right and Responsibility

Conditions for Referendum, Re-election and Hung Parliamentary Votes

11. Court of Law

Family Court

Criminal Justice Court

Court of Appeal

Military Court

Financial and Business Court

Public Courts

12. Responsibility and due process

Parental Responsibility

Personal Responsibility

Political Responsibility

Financial Responsibility

Military Responsibility

Adoption Due Process

Engagement and Marriage Due Process

Divorce and Separation Due Process

Election Eligibility Due Process

Firearms Licensing Due Process

Verdgoten and Adult Graduation Due Process

Election Results Due Process

Parental Disownment Due Process

Clan and House Formation Due Process

13. Foreign interaction and policy

Foreign Ambassador acceptance

Externa; Ambassadors abroad

Foreign Currency and Exchange

Border Security

Digital Security and Programming Policy

Citizenship and Visa Acceptance

14. Employment within and outside of the sector

Legal age and parameters of employment

Contract and procedure for levels of employment

Foreign policy for Mando'ade working abroad

Foreign policy for outsiders working in Mandalore

15. Property and payment

Land ownership and tenancy

Forms of payment accepted in legal contract

Ownership and registration of vehicles

Ownership and registration of Firearms

Ownership and registration of Non-sentient Animals

Copyright, fair trade and artistic license

16. Beskar

Donations to Foundlings

Ownership

Sacred right to wear beskar as armour

Conditions for percentage declared

Rights to mine and export

Religious significance

17. Recognised Mandalorian Sects and Coverts

Traditionalists

Haat Mando’ade

Naasaade

Way Followers

Creed Bound

Silver Children

18. Armour and Weapon Classifications

Military Issue

Military Grade

Civilian Use

Hunter and Mercenary Equipment

Trade and Specialist Equipment

Journeyman, Protectorate

19. Criminal sentencing

Theft

Grievous bodily harm

Assault

Rape

Murder

Manslaughter

Negligence

Criminal Negligence

Medical Malpractice

War Crimes

Demagolkase - War Crimes against children

Sentient Trafficking and experimentation

Financial Misconduct and Tax Evasion

20. Military and Law Enforcement

Military

Mandalorian Protectors

Journeyman Protectors

Home Guard

Manda'yaim Reserve

21. Land Rights and Conservation

Land Ownership

Sale and Redistribution of land

Declaration of Sacred Places

Sector Council Lands, Protectorate Lands, Crown Lands and Stock Routes

Protected Areas

Water Ways

Tenancy, Lodging, and Temporary Accommodations

Public Areas

Squatters' Rights

Sanctioned and unsanctioned terraforming

22. Commerce, Business and Integrity

Currency and Zones

Business Licenses and Legal Procedure

External business practice

Monopoly businesses and Mega Businesses

Banking within the Sector

23. Discrimination [link is found here]

Species

Sex

Religious Interpretation

Language

Ability

24. Closing Statements

Manda'lor Jaster Mereel [link is found here]

The Translator

25. References

Regarding headcanons for Houses; [link is found here]

26. Contacts and Relevant Supervising Personnel of Note

[This post will be altered as I go, and as amendments are made]

#star wars #supercommando codex #true mandalorians #mandalorian codex #mandalorian culture #fandom #jaster mereel #ghost wrote this over my shoulder and screamed at my referencing #Jaster's 70k long legal document that changed the galaxy #autism my beloved #mandalorian language #mandalorian code #mandalorians #mandalore #haat mando’ade #haat'mando'ade #mandalorian canons of honour

[tangledstarlight]

so um. didn’t do much at work today. wrote a thing. my entire thought process for this was ‘luke just. throws himself into any and every fight he sees that involves his friends huh?' and then i thought 'but what would happen if he couldn't fight for them??' and here we are. 

it also stemmed from the fact that luke has big pre-serum steve rogers vibes?? if ya get me. 

it’s a 5 +1 also. if that matters to anyone??

BUT ANYWAY!!!! this has a somewhat happy ending? if you squint? it was gonna be sadder, so idk. hmu if you want the sad ending i guess.

also on ao3

trigger warnings! blood mentions, implied/referenced child abuse, implied homophobia, character deaths (cos they’re yknow. ghosts)

one. Luke had spent so much of his time worrying about Reggie and Alex that he’d never stopped to consider the trouble that Bobby might get himself into.

And then he’s kneeling next to where Bobby is lying on the ground, his leg bent at an odd angle and there was a cut running down his cheek with blood dripping on tarmac. But he’s breathing. And that’s all Luke can find himself focusing on even as he hears the car that had hit him speeding away.

“Hey, hey Bobby. You’re okay man, you’re alright,” his voice is shaking but he doesn’t think Bobby notices, too busy trying realising the amount of pain he’s in. Luke can hear someone shouting behind them, thinks that someone called out about ringing 911, but he doesn’t take his attention away from his friend.

“My leg, Luke my– Fuck my leg hurts!” Bobby tries to sit up, his voice whining and letting out a his of pain as Luke gently keeps him lying in place. A vague memory from some long ago first aid class echoing in his mind about neck injuries and keeping the patient still.

“Yeah man, it’s uh,” his eyes dart down to Bobby’s leg, gulps and looks back up. He’s pretty sure his face must give him away. “It’s probably best you don’t look at it right now. Just, just look at me alright. Helps on the way.”

He can hear people talking around them, someone mentioning how far out the hospital is, another saying how disgusting it is for the driver to just run off without even stopping. Luke tries to tune them out. He can’t chase down a car, can’t find one driver in thousands and hurt them for hurting his friend. All he can do right now is try and distract Bobby from his broken leg and his pain.

“Don’t think I’ll be making it to rehearsals tonight.”

“Suppose we can let you off. This is a better excuse than Reggie’s one about the ducks that chased him,” Luke grins, he can hear sirens in the distance and lets out a shallow breath.

“My dad, I need to–” Bobby trails off and Luke isn’t sure if he’s lost in thought or just not sure what he needs to do. It’s not like either of them have been hit by a car before. They don’t know what they’re meant to do in a situation like this. Luke squeezes his hand, shrugs one of his shoulders.

“It’s alright. We’ll just take it one step at a time, don’t worry.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as they both seem to register what he said before Bobby is laughing and Luke is gaping in silent horror before feeling his own lips shaking with laughter too.

“Can’t believe you just made a comment about walking to a guy that’s just broken his leg. That’s low Patterson, even for you.”

two. Luke knew he had a reputation amongst his friends of being a little oblivious to certain things going on around him. He knew that he could sometimes get too caught up in his song writing, could miss obvious hints that people threw at him, could sometimes completely miss read a room. But he wasn’t stupid.

And he certainly wasn’t blind.

He had known Reggie since pre k. Had seen him at his best and his worst, had been there the day he showed up at school with the worlds worst hair cut, had helped him pick out his first bass from a cheap second hand music shop, had patted his back when Linsday Walters had dumped him during lunch when they were twelve.

Luke knew Reggie better then he knew just about anyone. So he knew when there was something wrong.

Not that it would have taken a genius to know there was something wrong when Luke was woken up at three am on a Thursday to someone knocking at his window. Reggie’s face peered in through the window, back lit by the streetlight across the road and making it incredibly evident that he had been crying, had Luke throwing his blankets off and out of bed quicker then he knew he could move. It took some awkward manoeuvring but eventually Reggie crawled in through the window and stood uncomfortably in the middle of Luke's room.

“Hey Reg…” Luke started, his eyes trailing up and down his friend quickly, trying to pinpoint what had brought him here so late. His eyes caught on the way the bassist held his left arm close to his chest, fingers shaking as he tried to ball his hand into a fist only to wince every time they moved. There were spots of blood on his shirt. Luke heard a roaring in his ears as he put together puzzle pieces of information he had always glanced over.

The Sullivan’s were well known in their friend group as the parents who fought the most. Reggie often made off hand comments and jokes about not getting much sleep, about stepping over broken glass, about falling down the stairs.

It had never once occurred to him that Reggie’s parents might ever hurt him.

“I– I didn’t know where else to go,” Reggie’s voice is quiet, small in a way Luke has never known him to be small. Reggie was always light and loud, the first to fill an awkward silence and to reach out in comfort. In all the years he has known the other boy, Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so subdued.

“You know you can always come here man, windows always open.” It’s an attempt at a joke and all it gets is a half hearted tug of his lips. “Are you bleeding, Reg?” Luke hates having to ask it, hates having to broach a subject that he’s fairly confident Reggie doesn’t want broached, but he needs to know how hurt his friend is.

Reggie blinks down at his arm, still held close to his chest, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it there like that. That it was hurt at all. But now as he looks at his fingers twitching and fresh tears filling his eyes, Luke can see him, physically, mentally, spiritually, falling apart in front of his eyes.

“Woah, hey, hey, it’s okay man. Let’s, let's just get you out of your jacket, yeah? We can do this, one step at a time.”

Luke walks towards him slowly, worried that any sudden moves might set off some kind of flight or fight response in his best friend and the last thing he wants right now is to cause him more pain. Reggie watches him with watery eyes, dipping his head once when Luke reaches out to gently move his arm and slip the leather jacket off him.

There’s a red stained cloth wrapped around his forearm, another around his palm and it takes all Lukes resolve to stay exactly where he is and not jump out his window and run all the way to the Sullivans house and scream at them for being able to hurt someone they’re meant to love. It takes a few more minutes of careful moving and unwrapping, pausing every time Reggie so much as hissed in a breath, before the damage is laid bare for Luke to see.

“Can I ask what happened?” It's a quiet question, and if he doesn’t want to talk about it Luke will drop the subject, wait until he’s ready to talk. But the cuts don’t seem deep, don’t seem like they were purposefully inflicted in the way he had first worried.

“They were– they were shouting at each other. I,” Reggie pauses to breath in, breath out, shakes his head. “I tried to get them to stop. Dad he– he threw a glass at me, mom pushed him then they both pushed me on the ground when I tried to stop them. Guess I kind of deserved it, got in their way.” He says it without making eye contact and Luke can feel himself staring at him with his mouth partly open.

Because Reggie is one of the best people he knows. He’s kind and funny and talented and just has so much love to share with the world that it sometimes comes out too forcefully for people to understand. If Lukes ever had a bad day, he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Reggie will always find a way to cheer him up. He knows that if there’s anyone in the world who doesn’t deserve this, it’s Reggie.  

“No, that’s...no. Just no. You don’t deserve any of this Reg,” Luke isn’t sure what to say, how to make him see that nothing about this is okay. Luke is good with words, he’s good at writing down his thoughts and feelings and putting them to a melody and a beat, it’s what he hopes will one day help him achieve his dreams. But right now, right now all he can see is his best friend from childhood crying on his bed and all his words have fled.

He doesn’t know how to fix this. It’s not a fight he can jump into, take a hit while the other runs to find help. Luke has spent half their friendship standing in front of bullies for Reggie but he feels helpless in front of this one. So he gives his friend a smile, squeezes his shoulder and stands up.

“I’m going to find the first aid kit, alright? And mom made some cookies yesterday, there should still be some left. I’ll be right back, okay?” He waits until Reggie gives him a nod, a small smile on his lips before he goes.

Luke can’t fight this fight for him, all he can do is find the first aid kit, clean his cuts, steal him some cookies, and let him know he’ll always be there no matter what.

three. Some fights Luke knew, had to be fought with words. Some couldn’t be won with a quick shove or a haphazard punch to the nose. Some fights, he knew, weren’t his to get involved in. No matter how much he might have wanted to punch Alex’s parents as he stood under the porch light at the front of their house, peering in through the side window at the fight raging inside.

When Alex had first asked him if he’d come with him tonight, if he’d wait outside ‘just in case it goes badly, or y’know even if it goes well’, Luke had said yes without even a hint of hesitation. There was nowhere else he’d be then right here, right now.

Alex coming out to his parents, it was a big deal. It was more than a big deal. It was a life changing moment, a life destroying moment, and Luke wished he could shield him from this hurt. But all he could do was stand outside and watch it all unfold. He’d promised not to get involved. To just be a silent bystander. He really wished he hadn’t made that promise.

The look of disgust and hatred on their faces is something he thinks he’ll remember forever. Even from this distance, a window and a room away, their faces are clear to see.

It’s the exact reaction he had feared would happen, what he knew Alex had always known deep down would happen despite a small part of him hoping for the complete opposite. Holding on to a fruitless hope that his parents would look past all their bigotry and still remember that they loved their son. That he was still the same person he had always been.

It's one the many things that make Alex so wonderful, Luke thinks, the way he holds onto even the smallest bit of light in the dark even when everything shows signs of a total black out approaching.

And his parents are snuffing that light out.

With each shouted word, each hurled insult and slur.

Luke can hear Alex crying, begging for them to listen to him through the ajar door. Can’t they hear his desperation? How can they stand there, hurting him more, while he’s crying right in front of them?

His hands curl into fists at his sides, this isn’t a fight he can take on for Alex, he knows this. But god, he wishes he could just push that door open, deck Mr Bennet in the face, take Alex out of the house and never look back. Luke stays where he’s stood. He’s here as support, as someone to pick up the pieces when they were done, not to start a fist fight. He’d promised.

“Get the hell out of my house! Get out! And don’t ever fucking come back here, you understand? Get out!”

There’s the sound of a scuffle, of Alex saying something that gets lost in the sounds of more insults and words that Luke wishes he didn’t know the meaning of. Then the door is being pushed open and Alex is standing in front of him, face red from crying and hands shaking as he struggles to breathe. Luke doesn’t even think Mrs Bennet notices him as she throws a coat and bag out the door before slamming it shut.

“They– I– oh god,” he can’t seem to get a sentence out, his breathing ragged and Luke knows the signs of an impending panic attack well enough now to know what’s happening. So he puts aside his own anger, pushes down his instincts to fight back, and puts his hands on Alex’s shoulders, bending his head to get the blonde to look at him.

“Hey, hey, look at me man. Just breath. In and out, in and out, like me.”

They stand like that for a few minutes, breathing in and out until Alex has some semblance of control over his own lungs again and gives Luke the smallest of nods of reassurance that he doesn’t believe for a second. But he lets go of his shoulders, bends down to pick up the coat and bag, slinging a strap over his shoulder and offering the coat out to Alex. It’s still early spring and it’s bound to get cold.

“They–,” Alex has to take another moment, eyes darting between the closed door and the items in Luke's hands, “Th– they kicked me out.” His voice breaks on the word.

“I know.” Because there’s nothing else he can offer Alex right now other than his understanding.

He can’t take on this fight for him, can’t absorb the blows or the hurtful words, can’t go inside the house and force his parents to take back all the hurt they have caused in such a short amount of time. All Luke can do is reach out to take Alex’s hand and gently pull him down the road, away from the only place he had ever called home and give him somewhere to feel safe. Somewhere he can fall apart and put himself back together again.

“Come on, let's go back to mine,” he gives Alex’s hand a gentle squeeze and walks at the pace he’s set. It’s slow, hesitante, almost like he’s walking in a daze and is just letting himself be pulled along, muttered things under his breath.

“What am I going to do? God they’re right.”

Luke tilts his head to look into the drummer's face, frowns at the distant look he finds in the other boy's eyes even as his lips move, words he probably doesn’t even realise he’s saying out loud spilling from his lips. So he pulls them to a stop and stands in front of the blonde, grabbing hold of his other hand until he’s gripping them both.

“Hey Alex, Alex look at me man. Look at him,” Luke waits until he’s got Alex’s eyes on him, until he can see the drying tear tracks on his cheeks and can watch as he tries to keep a fresh wave from falling. “We take this one step at a time, okay? We get through tonight, and then we take on tomorrow.”

Something in his words seems to catch his attention and Alex takes in a ragged breath, eyebrows furrowing.

“We?”

“Yeah man. You’re stuck with me forever. You, me and Reggie did that whole blood oath with tomato juice thing like five years ago, remember? I’m not ever going anywhere,” Luke frees one of his hands and pushes Alex’s shoulder, grateful when he gets a huffed laugh and roll of his eyes in return.

They walk the rest of the way back to his house in silence, but Alex seems just a little more settled in himself then he had half an hour before and Luke takes that for a win.

four. Whenever Luke had thought about dying – and he hadn’t really given it much thought, he was seventeen, he was supposed to have more time – he’d always assumed it would be when he was old and in his bed.

Or maybe in some tragic accident like other rock stars before him.

He had never stopped to consider it would be a fucking hotdog.

The pain had started suddenly and forcefully, making sure it was the only thing he could think about. Like it had wanted to be the star of the show and would do so in any way possible. Luke can’t remember what it felt like to not be in pain.

Alex lets out a guttural moan of pain next to him that draws Lukes attention, stretching out his arm until his hand brushes the fabric of Alex’s pink hoodie, twisting his fingers into it so he knows that he’s there. That he’s not alone.

Reggie is quieter, even as he vomits – and Luke is trying to ignore the blood he can see, trying to not think about what that means – his chest heaving even as a paramedic rushes towards them. Luke catches Reggie’s eyes, tries to make his mouth move, to form words, to let him know something, anything.

But Luke doesn’t know what he would say even if he could. He doesn’t know how to save them from this. Doesn’t know if he can.

Luke had never thought about what happens after you die, but ending up in a dark room with Alex crying and Reggie sitting scarily still, it wouldn’t have been high on his list of possibilities. As he walked around the room, left hand on the wall so he could follow it around and around, Luke wondered if he could have fought harder to live. And then he sees Alex’s eyes going dim, sees Reggie’s chest stop moving, and remembers feeling his heart break. He doesn’t think this is a fight he ever had a chance at winning.

Whenever he’d thought about life and death and what came next, he always put it off. He just always figured he’d get the time, later in life, to think about it all. He’d been trying to take his life one step at a time and he’d accidentally leapt to the end goal by mistake without getting any of the fun in between.

They were seventeen and death wasn’t supposed to be something they gave much thought too and now they had all eternity to think about it. At least they’d have each other he guesses.

five. Twenty six years after dying Luke finds himself once again thinking about it.

Death.

Dying.

He doesn’t really think it’s something you can fight, if the Grim Reaper comes calling he’s going to leave with a soul. But Luke would personally fight the Death themselves if it meant he’d never have to see Julie cry the way she is right now. Soft and heartbroken and never ending.

But he can’t fight death. All he can do is sit next to her on the couch in the garage, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other holding her hand – because they’re tangible more and more often now, and on any other day he would be smiling like an idiot at getting to hold her like this. But it’s not any other day. It’s today and he’s just grateful he can touch here at all. – as she cries silently on his shoulder.

Alex has settled himself on the other side of Julie, tucking her legs under his longer ones almost like a blanket to keep her safe. Reggie has pulled a bean bag over in front of the couch and has his head resting between Julie's knees and Lukes. Each a solid presence around her.

Some days he can almost forget that the reason they are here at all is because Julie lost one of the most important people in her life. And that it was in grief and avoidance of memories and the need for a fresh start that she put on a cd and they had poofed back into the world.

He finds himself wishing he knew more about her. 

The woman who had kept their EP, their shirt that couldn’t hold up in water, who had remembered them even when the world had forgotten.

“Tell us about your mom, Jules,” Luke whispers, not wanting to disturb the quiet bubble they have created but being unable to stop himself either. Julie’s crying stilts, her breathing stuttering as if she’s trying to comprehend what he’s asked. She knows she can always say no, that she can just not respond if she doesn’t want to. But Luke knows that this is the sort of pain you can’t fight, but you can ease it. He’s pretty sure Julie knows that too.

After a few minutes when Julie doesn’t say anything Luke accepts that she’s maybe not ready to talk yet and that would be okay too, they can just sit in silence.

But then slowly, hesitantly, Julie starts talking. 

Starts telling them about her mom who had taught her to play the piano by sitting her on her knee. Who had chased her around the beach and made her laugh until her side hurt when they’d buried ray in the sand while he napped. Who had stayed up all night sewing tassels and strands of fabric together because Carlos just had to be Cousin Itt for Halloween.

She tells them about the times they had curled up watching her favourite films, the way they had shouted the lyrics to their favourite songs loudly in the car, their disastrous first attempt at making a rainbow cake.

She’s still crying, still keeps her fingers linked between Lukes, still lets her other hand alternate between Reggie's hair and tapping on Alex’s knee. But there’s a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there that morning, she’s laughing through her tears a little bit more with each story.

“I miss her,” she says eventually, letting out a shaking breath.

“I know,” Luke says, because it’s not really the same but he knows what it’s like to miss someone.

“But it’ll hurt just a little bit less each day,” Reggie chimes in, because it’s not really the same but he knows what it’s like to miss someone even when it hurts to think of them.

“And y’know, she’s always with you because you’ve got all these stories to share,” Alex tilts his head at her with a smile, because it’s not really the same but he knows that holding on to the good memories is sometimes all you have.

“Thanks guys,” she gives them a watery smile. “I don’t know what I’d do with you all.”

Luke doesn’t like to dwell too long on that thought, on a world where they pass over and leave her alone. Because it’s an all too real possibility so he pushes the thought back and nudges her shoulder and smiles.

“Nah, you’d be fine. You’d just take it one step at a time, you don’t have to go fast, you just gotta get through it.”

He doesn’t think he’s said anything too weird but Julie is looking at him with wide eyes and a silent ‘o’ on her lips. Luke frowns at her wondering what he’s done wrong now.

“Don’t look at him like that, it’s his go to advice for any problem. Just take it one day at a time,” Reggie laughs, imitating Luke’s voice as he says it and nudging his leg as he wiggles his eyebrows which causes Alex to laugh and draws Julie in too. 

And Luke doesn’t mind that they’re kind of laughing at him, he’s just glad Julie is smiling. He’s not sure he’d win a fight with Death, but he’d give it a go if she asked.

+one. When Caleb pops back into their lives it happens so suddenly that Luke doesn’t even have a chance to second guess what he’s doing. All he knows is that Caleb is threatening the people he cares most about in the world, that there’s one option in front of him which only gets him hurt and Luke really hates bullies.

He doesn’t think about the pain that the jolts cause or that there’s a very good chance he’ll never see his family again or that playing music without Alex and Reggie and Julie just isn’t worth it.

He doesn’t think about that.

He thinks being seven and meeting Reggie, about meeting Alex, about meeting Bobby.

He thinks about all the bullies he was never big enough to protect them from, quick enough to run away from.

He thinks about when they were fifteen and Bobby got his by a car, broke his leg and got a concussion and how Luke just wasn’t quick enough to push him out of the way.

He thinks about being sixteen and Reggie knocking on his window covered in cuts and bruises and how Luke wasn’t able to protect him from the people who were meant to protect him.

He thinks about being seventeen and calming Alex’s breathing as his parents' shouts still echo around their heads and how Luke couldn’t make it any better because he didn’t have the power to change minds.

He thinks about being seventeen and suggesting they get street dogs and dying, about not being able to save them.

He thinks about being seventeen and stuck in a dark room for twenty five years and how Alex cried and Reggie looked lost and how Julie had to lose her mom to find them.

He thinks about Julie, crying between them all as she misses her mom and how much it would hurt her to lose them all.

“Luke, please. Don’t.” 

Julie holding his hand, trying to pull him away. He can feel Reggie gripping tight to his other hand, standing half behind him with Alex who’s twisted his fingers into the material of his shirt. Standing behind him, just where they had always joked they’d be in a fight.

But Luke was never joking about it. Taking the hits so they don’t have to? It’s the easiest choice he’s ever made. It’s the one he’ll always make.

“I don’t want any of you to get hurt.”

Luke doesn’t realise he’s crying until his vision starts to blur a little, the image of Caleb in front of them going fuzzy.

“We take it one step at a time, Luke,” Reggie squeezes his hand tighter, tugging him back half a step.

“And we do it together, remember? A blood oath with tomato juice, Luke. We’re stuck together,” the hand Alex had had gripping his shirt loosens just enough to to circle around his bicep and he manages to tug him back another step.

“We can’t get through this if we don’t have you Luke. You don’t need to make the sacrifice play. There’s always another way,” Julie’s crying too, he notices belatedly as her tears drip on to the hand she is holding, his knuckles pressing against her lips.

“Come on man. Let’s go home.”

Luke holds steady for a second longer, eyes focused on Caleb's face before he gives in, letting the three of them pull him back from a line he can’t uncross. 

But he’d do it. 

He’d do it in one of his non-existent heart beats if it meant they’d be safe. He’s always jumped into a fight without a second thought. And for Reggie and Alex and Julie? He’d do it in even less. If they’d let him.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #trevor wilson #jatp #should i tag this with something else??? idk man enjoy i guess #rosie vs writing #* #Alex Mercer #Reggie Peters #*fics

[flipomatic]

Internship Chapter 31: Day 25-26 - Edric

First Chapter Previous Chapter

___________________________________________________

When he got home from the coven, Edric was exhausted.

He had flown back to the coven with Frederick, and then reported that the house was old and crumbling, but abandoned. As promised, Frederick didn’t report the second floor collapse. The dispatcher asked if they had anything else to report, likely noticing the dust relentlessly clinging to their uniforms, but Frederick kept his word. He just said it was dusty from being empty for so long.

As soon as Edric made it to his room, he changed out of the uniform into his casual clothes. He only had to wear it for one more day; he wouldn’t miss it. Especially the mask, which he had no intention of returning.

No, he had other plans for it.

That would come later though, once all of his other business was settled. Now though, Edric settled down to plan. He had started to form a loose plan earlier, as they flew towards the coven, but now he sat at his desk and wrote it out. He crossed out and redid a few steps, wanting to make sure it would go smoothly.

By the time he heard Em getting home, the plan was almost done. As expected though, he wasn’t going to be able to do it alone.

Edric folded up the paper and put it in his pocket, then stepped out of his room and into the hallway. Em had gone into her room, so Edric cast a small spell to call her to the attic. He didn’t wait to see if she sent an illusion back, just went to climb up the ladder.

He used an illusion ladder, not trusting the real one and not wanting any unpleasant eight-legged surprises. When he looked over the edge and into the room, a small illusion trap activated. A polka dotted image of a spider scurried across the ground in front of him.

This was likely so Em would be alerted if someone came up here, but when the light flashed all Edric could see was the floor collapsing beneath Frederick’s feet. A flash of panic surged through him, his hammering heart screaming to drop back down, to get away.

Edric quickly climbed the rest of the way up, assuring himself that nothing like that was happening now. He dusted off one of the boxes and sat down on it, trying to calm himself. It was just an illusion spell, nothing bad was going to happen here.

By the time Em’s face appeared over the edge of the hatch, Edric had composed himself. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She jabbed at him as she climbed all the way up. Well, maybe he hadn’t completely recovered.

“It’s been a rough day.” Edric admitted, sagging further against the box. “A building almost fell on me.”

“No way.” Em leaned against a different box, eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Seriously.” If it hadn’t happened to him, Edric wouldn’t have believed it either. “But I know who did it, and I have a plan to catch them.” He took the paper out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Em opened it and skimmed over the words quickly. Her mouth was drawn in a firm line, unchanging as she read. “I’ll help you.” She replied to a question Edric hadn’t even asked when she reached the end, and then handed the paper back.

That brought a smile to Edric’s face for the first time since that morning. “Tomorrow’s the day.” He said, folding the paper back up. “We’ll do it at the jail, after the internship ends. Bring your scroll with the camera.”

“Got it.” Em nodded. “I’ll signal when I’m there.”

The two continued to discuss the plan, making sure they had all of the details ironed out. If it went well, then Edric would catch the culprit for sure. If it turned out he had the wrong suspect, then there wouldn’t be any harm done.

The twins ended the meeting when they finished, splitting up to head back to their rooms.

They had a big day tomorrow.

_________________________________________________________

The morning felt like it came too soon, snapping Edric out of a peaceful sleep. His arms were still sore from yesterday, but they didn’t hurt quite as much.

He grabbed a quick breakfast and walked to the coven, following the now usual routine for the last time.

Frederick was waiting for him at the locker room, his uniform completely clean of the dust from the day before. He brushed a speck of dirt off Edric’s shoulder before the two went to the dispatcher for their post.

“You’ve had a busy week.” The dispatcher said, once they were inside the office. “So you’ll be training today.”

That made sense, since they had assignments outside of the jail all week so far. This was good, since it would make Edric’s later plans easier. Still, it made for an underwhelming last day of the internship.

Frederick seemed happy though, after yesterday he was probably still tired. “Thanks, let me know if you need us.”

“Of course.” The dispatcher nodded, then waved them out of the office.

The walk to the training room was a familiar one, and Edric criticized himself for feeling nostalgic. It was his nature to not like change, but he really wouldn’t miss coming here.

Maybe though, he would miss Frederick. The witch had really grown on him, despite his protective streak. His efforts to teach Edric new spells had been valiant, if foolhardy, and he had done his best to train him. He even made him passable at the sword.

Today would be their last day together. When they reached the training hall, they went to the same corner they normally used. Frederick brought a wood sword with him, probably for later use.

“Let’s see that plant spell.” Frederick said to start, causing Edric to remember exactly why he disliked training.

“If I must.” Edric said, drawing the spell circle in the air. After a month, he was able to complete the circle without issue. Once it was cast though, it still had minimal effect. A couple roots poked out of the ground, sticking up a couple inches in the air.

Frederick leaned over to look at them, shaking his head. “As good as it’s going to get, I guess.” He then laughed, a deep ringing sound. “I won’t ask about the healing spell.”

Edric smiled at that, unseen beneath his mask. “Thank you.” They both knew how that would go.

“At least you learned how to use the sword.” Frederick said with a chuckle. “Let’s work on blocking, so you don’t forget the minute you’re back at school.”

Edric didn’t really want to do that either, but as he had learned there was no getting out of it. “Alright.” He lifted the sword off his belt, holding it out in front of him in the correct defensive stance.

Frederick lifted his sword as well, and then lunged in to strike. For a while, they practiced. Frederick trying to land a hit while Edric deflected his blows.

After a while, Frederick changed it up. “Try to strike back, you can use spells like the one from before.” He was referencing the anti friction spell Edric had used to trip him.

This would take more focus than just blocking, but Edric was confident he could do it. The next time Frederick lunged in, he quickly cast the spell with his left hand. Surprisingly though, Frederick didn’t slide. He just kept coming, smashing his wood sword against Edric’s.

“Surprised?” Frederick sounded smug, like he was smirking beneath his mask.

Edric drew another spell circle, this time creating an illusion clone that lunged at Frederick from the side. Frederick stepped out of the way masterfully, leaving Edric off balance from leaning against their crossed swords. The clone vanished a moment later.

“How did you do that?” Edric had to ask, even in the middle of sparring. Besides, this could distract Frederick and let him get a hit in.

“Coated my shoes with anti slip potion.” Frederick replied without letting his guard down.

He’d been planning this then. Edric changed his tactic, abandoning the anti-friction spell. Instead he cast another illusion circle, creating a rope that was tied around his sword. This wasn’t as well planned as his first strategy, but it maybe it would work.

Frederick watched as he completed the spell, then lunged in for another attack. This time, when their swords crossed, Edric used his left hand to sling the rope around them. He caught it on the other side, and then stepped to the left and pulled.

Initially, this had the desired effect. It pulled Frederick off balance, as he refused to let go of the sword. Unfortunately, Edric couldn’t take advantage of the opening. By using his own sword as the base, it left him unable to use it. If he brought it back to swing, he would bring Frederick’s sword back with him.

This would only work if the opponent dropped their weapon. Edric frowned as he released the rope, allowing Frederick to retreat.

“You almost had me.” Frederick admitted once he was out of reach.

The two continued sparring for a while, with Edric unable to land a hit. When they took a break for lunch, Edric insisted it was a draw. Frederick initially said it wasn’t, but he gave in.

For the afternoon, they went back to magic training. Edric took the chance to show Frederick some more illusion magic, and helped him pick up a couple of the easier spells.

After they finished training, there was another task Edric needed to accomplish. It related to his plan for the evening.

“Do you know where Nick is assigned today?” Edric asked casually, while resting between spells, hoping Frederick wouldn’t find the question odd.

Frederick paused to think, clearly picking up on the strange vibe, but answered it anyway. “I don’t keep track of things like that. The dispatcher could probably tell you.”

“Hmm okay.” Edric mulled that over; he guessed it didn’t really matter, so long as Nick came back to the coven later. “Have you seen him today?”

“Not since yesterday morning.” Frederick hesitated before answering, and Edric could practically see the gears turning in his mind. This conversation was not going as intended. “You don’t think… What are you planning?” The question was accusatory, as if Frederick already suspected what was going on.

“Nothing dangerous.” Edric tried to mitigate the damage. “I’m just going to find the truth.” He hoped it wouldn’t be dangerous.

“I don’t think you’ll find anything.” Frederick said with a shake of his head. “But be careful.”

“I will.” Edric promised, despite making only the bare minimum arrangements.

The conversation died out, though Frederick still seemed concerned, and they practiced magic for a couple more hours.

When the end of the day came, it was time to say goodbye. They were still in the training hall, near the exit. Edric handed Frederick the sword he’d been carrying for the last couple weeks; he wouldn’t need it any longer.

“You should keep it.” Frederick gave it back to him. “You never know when you might need it.”

Though Edric despised the wood object in question, he still felt touched to be offered it. “Won’t they miss it?” He slid it back onto his belt, where he’d grown accustomed to having it.

“We have plenty.” Frederick replied, gesturing to the rack full of swords on the wall.

“Okay, thanks.” Edric wasn’t going to argue against it any further. He might need it later today, if things went south with the plan.

“You know,” Frederick said, then paused for a moment. “Even though you didn’t want to be here, you did a fine job. When you graduate, I’d be happy to work with you again.”

Edric was one hundred percent sure that Frederick didn’t have the authority to offer him a spot in the coven, but it was the thought that counted. Besides, even after a whole month there he still didn’t want to join the Emperor’s Coven.

“Thanks for looking out for me.” Edric said in response, thinking back to the times Frederick had saved his skin and all of the training he put him through. “I’ll see you around.”

“Absolutely.” Fredrick extended a hand to shake, which Edric accepted.

Soon after, they parted for the last time. Frederick went to the locker room, while Edric stayed in the training hall for a bit longer. He cast a spell, to start the first part of the plan.

Soon Em would join him, and the next phase would begin.

Next Chapter

#the owl house #the owl house fanfiction #edric blight #two in a row for him #he has a lot going on #flip writes

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Hey fuckers! So I wrote this all today and liked it enough to post, please enjoy this minimally edited mess of a fic! But read the warnings carefully!! You also may want to read the other fics in the series to understand this? But it's not super necessary. (First three fics here, here, and here, mind the warnings.) Also shoutout to @wishiwasthemoon-tonight for encouraging my angsty bullshit, for this fic and many, many others.

Title: the last thing i see

Wordcount: 1734

Summary: Cherri Cola has died before.

It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.

Warnings: blood, violence, major character death, implied self harm, referenced suicide and suicidal thoughts, and a fuckton of swearing as usual. (How did I fit that all in less than 2k words? Talent.)

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

(Actual fic under the cut)

Cherri Cola has died before. 

He remembers what it was like, his breaths growing more difficult as the hot sand burnt his skin and everything hurt-hurt-hurt. He remembers how cold the darkness felt, the oblivion it promised. He remembers fighting against it, remembers the fear and the pain and the voice in his head screaming ‘I don’t want to die alone’. The helplessness, he remembers, too, his arms aching from the cuts he put there himself and the way he had forced them to try and drag his weight. Helpless and alone, and scared. He knows what it’s like to die in the desert.

Cherri Cola has died before.

It’s not a big surprise to him when he dies again.

The Girl leaves him by the water cooler, saying she’s going to Dr. D’s for the night. He doesn’t believe her, not after her words at the concert, but Cherri Cola is wise enough to know that he has to let her go. Much as he would like to hold her and protect her forever, he’s already failed to do that when she really needed it. So all he can do now is support her in what choices she makes and not think about how he’s failing to protect her like he failed to protect the killjoys who died to save her.

She doesn’t come back, and Cherri knows he’s already failed. He leaves to help her anyways, that day, when the dreadful news comes that mom and dad are coming home at last. It’s broadcast on every radio station, a cry, a call, a desperate scream for help. 

For the first time in over ten long years, Cherri picks up a ray gun, the weight familiar in his hands. He flicks the safety off, ready to shoot, and flips the switch from stun to kill. Although it takes precious moments he can barely afford to waste, he takes the time to fire a few practice shots before he tucks it away in the holster. He can’t afford for his skill to be compromised at all for this mission- a single slip could cost the lives of many of the young ‘joys of the desert, hardly more than children. So once his ray gun is ready to fire, he pulls on his mask. Die with your mask on if you've got to, just as Dr. Death Defying said all those years ago.

He will die with his mask on, that day.

Cherri arrives to chaos, and he doesn’t hesitate a second before jumping into the fight. Within moments, he can see Motorbaby crouched, looking like she’s been hit by a stun shot as a Draculoid stands over her. There’s not a single second to think, so he doesn’t. He just acts, taking down the drac with a single well-placed shot. Cherri ignores the stares of the ‘joys around him, every ounce of his focus on the Girl.

“Cola?” Her voice is weak, but it’s present, and he breathes a tiny sigh of relief.

“I’ll take care of this.” He’s failed her so many times, he won’t fail her this time.

“Cola, Val killed D. I didn’t get there in time to stop him, I-“ Cherri’s heart breaks at the anguish in her voice as she steadies and goes on. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” It’s more than okay; it’s his fault, really, but he doesn’t have the time or the words to express that. “Dr. Death Defying will be with our other friends soon. Now stay down!” 

It’s all the reassurance he has time to provide her as plasma bolts shoot past his head. Drac after drac falls to his ray gun, as easily as ever. Killing comes far too easily to him, or did. Now, it’s not quite the same, but he soothes the guilt that rises to choke him with whispers of ‘it’s for Motorbaby’. 

And he hardly has time to think, hardly time to breathe, before the Girl is trying to warn him. “Cola…behind you…”

There isn’t a second to move or dodge as a bolt hits him squarely in the back, and he knows he’s dead. Out of all the ways that he could have died, this one hasn’t been in his head for a long time, now. In his earlier days, in the Analog Wars, ‘in a fire fight’ would be a probable way for him to die, one he thought about often enough that he wouldn’t have been surprised. But by now, he’s been thinking he’ll fall at his own hands, not a scarecrow’s, for long enough that he’s still surprised as he topples to the ground. 

Dying in a firefight is nothing like the ways he’s died before. It hurts, of course it does, but in the detached way that means he’s already dead or close to that. It’s not a slow, painful death, it’s quick and fiery. Pain arcs through him, and he’s dead before he hits the ground. And despite the hint of surprise, he knows that he was never going to survive this fight. Like the Fabulous Four before him, he knew he would die for the Girl.

Cherri Cola dies, and he does not regret it.

The only thing he regrets now is that he can’t be there for the Girl as she stands up- or, rather, her spirit does. The Phoenix Witch scooped his mask off his face, and so Cherri is there too, but she keeps a firm grasp on his soul. There’s nothing he can do, nothing he can say, to the Girl his friends loved so and he loved just as much. They are not in the spirit world, nor even the borderlands, and Cherri is helpless once again. Helpless to speak, helpless to comfort her, helpless to resist as the Phoenix Witch sweeps away with him and countless other souls.

This time, there’s no Newsie to save him. She fell some three years back, and Cherri was not brave enough to quest into the Phoenix Witch’s domain as she did for him. Newsie wouldn’t have been able to save him anyways, he knows. This was his last chance, the Phoenix Witch told him oh-so-many years ago. His last shot at life, granted to him by the love of his sibling.

There may be no Newsie to save him, but when the Phoenix Witch crosses the last boundary of the borderlands where he once stood, there is a Newsie to welcome him. 

They laugh, presumably at his stunned face, running over to give him a tight hug with a “Finally, fucker!” 

“Newsie? Newsie, I’m sorry-“

“Why the fuck are you apologizing? You’re finally fucking here!” Newsie freezes. “Cherri, you didn’t-“

“I died fighting Better Living Industries,” he promises.

“Oh thank fuck. How is it out there?”

“Bad, Newsie, it’s bad. Motorbaby is alive, which is a ray of hope, but some asshole named Val killed D-“

“Oh, yeah, we know. He showed up and immediately started giving Pone shit for making the afterlife glittery.”

“I don’t understand it!” Dr. Death Defying is there, all of the sudden, looking quite distressed. “How do you even make the spirit world glittery?”

“Ey’s Pony, D.” Cherri can’t help but smile. “Ey can’t just not glitter-ify places.”

“That’s because I’m the gayest Pony in the desert!” Show Pony flashes him a smile as ey skates up.

“Sure are, Pone,” Cherri says softly.

Next is Hot Chimp, grinning as she gives him a small wave. “Hey, brother-in-law.”

“Hey, sister-in-law. Nice to see you again."

And finally, four familiar figures who he hasn’t seen in far too long step out, looking exactly how he last saw them but minus the grim determination. Instead, Party Poison is grinning as Kobra Kid gives him a small nod, and Jet Star’s gentle smile is just as wide as Fun Ghoul’s toothy grin.

“I’m sorry,” Cherri tells them.

“We forgive you,” Poison says with surprising gentleness. “We never resented you much to begin with, even if you are an insufferable bastard. We’d never ask you to die for us.”

"I would have." It's important that they know that; he never go to tell them when they were alive.

"We knew that." Poison cracks a small grin. “Pepsi.”

Cherri isn’t even sure if ghosts can cry, but they must be able to because his cheeks are wet and words suddenly seem very difficult as he takes a few shuddering breaths.

“Oh Witch, I think I broke Pepsi,” Poison mutters. 

Newsie flips them off and gives Cherri a playful glare. “Come on, don’t start crying now, asshole! We’re finally all here, or mostly, anyways!”

That only makes him cry harder, burying his face in his hands just as he did the day the Fabulous Four died. It's been a long time since he's cried like this, utterly vulnerable but happy for once, a bittersweet cry as opposed to one of sheer pain.

As it turns out, ghosts can’t only cry, but also hug, and Cherri finds himself wrapped in so many sets of arms he can’t even tell whose are whose. He thinks it’s Newsie’s shoulder that his face ends up buried in, is pretty sure that the hands rubbing his back are Jet’s, but he really doesn’t know. It doesn’t really matter, in the end, because he’s here with his family and that’s all that really matters.

Later, they’ll trade tales of what happened while they were all apart and Cherri will tell the Fabulous Four everything about the Girl he can remember, from her cat to the fight with the exterminators. He’ll pretend not to notice Poison sniffling or how choked Ghoul’s voice is, and they’ll pretend not to notice how his voice breaks when he talks about the day they died.

Newsie and Hot Chimp will update him on all the ‘tea’ of the land of the dead and how Newsie almost punched the Phoenix Witch, and D will give him a surprisingly (given the fact  that they’re both dead) warm hug, and promise that it’s not his fault for failing to stop Val. And of course, Show Pony won't let him get away without a little bit of shittalking his fashion sense and catching up on what's happened since eir death.

But all of that will come later. For now, Cherri’s family holds him tightly, and that’s all Cherri needs.

#cherri cola #the girl #ttlofk #auri writes #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #newsagogo

[millennial-ring]

Haunted Chapter 26.5

Tobi sat upright in bed, back against the wall and laptop resting on her outstretched legs that were tucked under the blankets despite the summer heat. Her bright green hair was pulled into a messy bun, stray pieces of hair falling out to frame her face. She kept having to push them behind her ears because they annoyed her, but she made no effort to properly pin them back. It was 5pm on her day off, and she still wore her pajamas, not bothering to change into real clothes despite her and her roommate’s plans to get Chinese before her roommate had to work. They’d both slept all day, exhausted and overworked.

 Tobi’s hands hovered above the keyboard uncertainly, the exhaustion showing on her pale face. The bags under her eyes –which she usually liked having, since they gave her a “dead inside” look without having to apply make up at 7am- were much darker thanks to the 18 hours she worked in the last two days. She was attempting –and failing- to write the next chapter of her fanfiction, Haunted. She kept writing one or two sentences, then deleting them. Now she stared at the blank word document like it was mocking her.

 “Fuck this,” she muttered, setting the laptop aside and getting out of bed. Her little black cat, Salem, chirped in protest at being woken up, and Tobi proceeded to get distracted with petting the cat for a good 5 minutes before she managed to make her way to the kitchen.

 “Drink of champions,” she said to herself as she pulled out her third Vanilla Coca-Cola and cracked open the can. As she took the first few too-big mandatory gulps she recalled that this very drink had inspired her Fanfiction.net username –VanillaKokain, because the sweet vanilla-laced beverage was just as addicting as that white powder.

 (In the real world, not fanfic self-insert land, the Real Tobi takes a second to retrieve her own Vanilla Coke from the kitchen before resuming the crack fic.)

 Though she really hadn’t done much but write maybe two paragraphs, collectively, she considered taking a break and making something to eat. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had anything to eat, so she set down her Coke and grabbed a box of Kraft Mac and Cheese – the new Star Wars shapes, because fuck you, the shapes taste better.

 As she was turning to grab a pan from the cupboard above the sink, she spotted two people who were definitely not her roommate or friends, and dropped the box of BB-8 shaped noodles.

 Sitting there on her couch among the dozens of decorative pillows were none other than Malik and Bakura; more specifically, the versions of the two characters that existed in the Haunted universe. 

Malik wore his beautiful golden hair up in a ponytail, his outfit consisting of black skinny jeans and a white-to-lavender gradient tank top that Tobi had wanted to draw him in again. Bakura, meanwhile, wore his baggy red hoodie and grey sweat pants, his body surrounded by the weird, other worldly shimmering that Tobi always worried she didn’t describe very well.

 The two men stared at Tobi, and for a long moment, Tobi stared back, too shocked to do anything but try and control her breathing so she didn’t scream. At length she picked up the can of Coke and checked the ingredients. “Did they start putting actual cocaine in this shit?”

 “I’m pretty sure cocaine doesn’t make you hallucinate after one hit.”

Tobi shook her head, her eyes wide and an unhinged smile working its way over her lips. “No, you’re right, of course, I knew that. So this must just be a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and sleep deprivation and where is my phone I need to call chef and ask for some time off because I obviously need a damn vacation if I’m starting to talk to hallucinations of my two favorite YuGiOh villains!” The more she spoke, the more shrill her voice got, and at the end she took a deep gasp of air after not taking a single breath.

 “Oh, we aren’t hallucinations, sweet heart,” Bakura purred, and Fanfic Tobi didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe at the pet name. Real Life Tobi thought it was hilarious, though, so she left it in there.

 Tobi stared at them a moment longer before suddenly grabbing a ghost shaped salt shaker and chucking it at Malik. It hit him solidly in the shoulder and spilled salt everywhere.

 “Ow! What the fuck!” Malik rubbed his shoulder and stood, shaking and brushing the salt from his clothes.

 “Holyshityou’reREAL.”

 “Yeah, Bakura literally just said that.”

 “But- how- I don’t- you’re fucking fictional! Okay, this has to be a dream.”

 “We aren’t a dream, either.”

 “No, you totally are, because I have weird dreams about anime characters all the time.”

 “But in how many of those dreams do you acknowledge it’s crazy to see two anime characters in your house?”

 Tobi opened her mouth, a finger raised in her customary “Well, actually,” pose. She closed and opened her mouth a few times, trying to think of something to say, but in the end she gave up and pinched herself.

 Fuck. Definitely not a dream.

 Malik smirked as the reality finally, finally dawned on Tobi.

 “Okay, but how, and why, are you two fuck heads in my living room.”

 Bakura snickered. Malik pulled something from his pocket and held it out for Tobi to see. A glowing golden cube floated above his palm, one corner sheared off and replaced with a YGO-styled Eye of Horus.

 “Ah. Yes. The Fanfic Device. Of course.” She paused for a moment, then frowned. “But how the hell did you get that? You guys are totally AU. There’s some stuff in your universe that’s based on canon, but the Dimensional Cube shouldn’t exist at all. Neither should any of the other Items.”

 Malik nodded, tossing the cube from hand to hand. “You’re right, it doesn’t exist in our universe. We stole it from our Abridged counterparts when they entered our universe.”

 “Your Abridged counterparts? I never wrote- oh shit. A Way Home.”

 “Precisely.”

 Tobi shook her head, raking her fingers through her hair and managing to pull more out of her bun. “No way. I just reread that fic a few days ago and YGOTAS Malik and Bakura never visited Haunted. It wasn’t even referenced.”

 “It was off screen.”

 “That’s…convenient.”

 “Right? Anyway, point is we stole the Cube and used it to travel to this stupid self-insert crack fic you’re writing like it’s fucking 2005 again.”

 Tobi rolled her eyes. “Why? Why would you come to this fic when there are a thousand others you could go to?”

 “Because we needed to talk to you, and this is the only YuGiOh fanfic where you exist, aside from Where’s The Tan.”

 “We don’t speak that name in this house.”

 It was Malik’s turn to roll his eyes at Tobi’s dramatic reaction. “Believe me, I want to forget it exists, too. Thank god you only got three chapters in.”

 “Anyway,” Bakura cut in, moving to stand beside Malik. “We’re here to tell you to get off your lazy ass and start writing our story again.”

 Malik nodded in agreement. “We’ve been stuck in fanfic purgatory for five months, Tobi. Five months!”

 “And you left the last chapter on such a cliffhanger, too!”

 Tobi raised a brow. “It wasn’t that much of a cliff hanger.”

 “My clothes just disappeared. You were definitely implying I passed on. But even we-“ he motioned between himself and Malik- “don’t know if I did or not because you haven’t even started the next chapter!”

 “I’ve started the next chapter,” Tobi said indignantly.

 “Yeah, because writing two sentences and then deleting them is definitely starting a chapter.”

 “Hey, it’s an emotional chapter! And how do you not know what happens when I’ve outlined up to chapter 30?”

 “Because that doesn’t count as a fanfic. We can’t travel to it and see what happens.”

 Tobi grumbled something under her breath and rubbed her forehead. “So you stole the Fanfic Device from Sitabethel’s Abridged-based Verse and traveled to this specific fic to chew me out for not updating?”

 “Yup.”

 “Oh my fucking god that’s so stupid.”

 “You’re the one writing it.”

 “What?”

 “What?”

 The three stared at each other again in silence before Bakura scoffed.

 “Come on, how hard can it be? Just write the rough draft, at least! That technically counts as fic, and we’ll be able to travel to it and see what happens.”

 “If it was so easy I wouldn’t really be struggling so much to write this chapter, would I?”

 Bakura opened his mouth to retort, but Malik shushed him.

 “Just do what you can, Tobi. We’re just anxious to see if we get a happy ending or not.”

 Tobi winced. “I mean…Do you want spoilers? Because I can tell you what happens.”

 Malik shook his head. “I’d rather experience it.”

 “Same,” Bakura agreed.

 Tobi sighed and picked up her forgotten box of Mac and Cheese, brushing a tuft of white cat fur from it. “Alright, I’ll see what I can do. But I really am exhausted from work, so I don’t know how soon I can get it done.”

 “Like I said, just do what you can. Just don’t keep us waiting another five months, yeah?”

 Tobi huffed and smiled. “I’ll do my best.”

 Malik nodded and activated the Fanfic Device. A projection of various fanfics appeared in front of him and he began scrolling through realities in search of their own universe. Tobi watched, fascinated with the variety of AUs. While he was looking for the Haunted dimension, Tobi spotted a familiar scene and tensed.

 “Wait, go back!”

 Malik looked at her oddly but did just that, scrolling backwards. The scene on display was one of Malik spooning Ryou, while on the other side, “Amir” was spooning Bakura. Bakura and Malik exchanged confused looks, but Tobi was grinning.

 “The Only Human universe! I’ve been obsessed with this fic forever!” She turned to Malik, giving him a puppy dog eyed expression that would have been adorable in an anime or cartoony style, but in the real world where shit was 3-dimensional it looked awkward. “Can you please go there and see how many chapters it takes until that Marik get truly comfortable with Kek and Ryou?”

 “You mean, how many chapters are left until the big conspireshipping lemon?”

 Tobi just grinned.

 “No.”

 Tobi’s face fell.

 Malik flipped forward to their own dimension, the screen displaying Malik’s empty bedroom, exactly how she’d always imagined it. He tilted his head to the portal. “Come on, Bakura. Let’s go relive chapter 25.”

 Bakura grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” Without ceremony he slipped into the portal and disappeared.

 Malik took a step forward, paused, turned back to Tobi. He looked troubled. “I…don’t want spoilers, but… Is there actually a happy ending?”

 Tobi chewed her lip. “There’s a lot of pain coming your way but…technically speaking, yes. There’s a happy ending. For everyone.”

 Malik smiled. “That’s all I needed to know.” With that he stepped through the portal and, just like that, Tobi was alone again.

 Tobi rubbed her forehead, glancing down at her half-finished Coke. With a frown, she grabbed the can, chugged the remaining refreshing beverage, and slammed the can back down onto the counter. She took a few steps towards the bedroom, determined to actually properly begin that rough draft, but her growling stomach stopped her.

 “Okay… First, Mac and fucking Cheese. Then I’ll write some angst.”

#haunted #i spent too long on this and no one is gonna read it but that's fine