#// but you just had to immediately go and assume the worst outcome

[mythcaels-a]

“im NOT jealous ” / umi n tae

jealous / possessive  meme

𝐇𝐢𝐬  𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐥  𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭  𝐭𝐨  upset  Umi  with  his  question  about  the  possibility  of  him  being  jealous.  Taeyeong  was  pretty  oblivious  for  a  while  but  something  seemed  to  click  and  had  made  him  blurt  the  question  out  without  thinking,  now  the  response  he  got  in  return  made  him  feel  embarrassed  for  even  asking  such  a  thing.  His  cheeks  burn  as  they  settle  for  a  bright  red  coloring,  tips  of  his  ears  burn  right  too  and  have  that  same  redness  to  them  as  well. Immediately  his  gaze  is  flittering  around  as  he  finds  himself  fidgeting  and  wringing  hands  in  a  nervous  manner.  ❝  Right,  that  makes  sense.  ❞ 

It  wasn't  like  Umi  liked  him  like  that  to  be  jealous  when  someone  flirts  with  him (  even  when  he  turned  down  the  one  that  flirted  with  him  as  well  ).  Yet,  it  very  much  was  a  situation  where  Tae  wished  that  were  the  case  because  he  caught  feelings  for  people  easily  and  he  realized  easily  that  he  had  feelings  for  Umi.  He  pushes  smile  onto  lips,  though  he  feels  something  akin  to  heartbreak  when  this  is  just  one  big  misunderstanding  on  his  part  entirely  and  he  didn't  realize  that  Umi  just  seemed  to  blurt  that  when  the  truth  of  the  words  that  had  been  blurted  was  completely  the  opposite.  He  rubs  the  back  of  his  neck,  looking  sheepish  but  there's  a  lingering  sadness  in  his  gaze.  ❝  Sorry  I  asked  !  Forget  I  said  anything,  'kay  ?  ❞

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.7

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Ch. Notes: Angst, Violence, Emotional, translations: Moye ditya= my child moye serdtse= my heart

Summary: Y/n, Wanda, and Pietro are forced to prepare for the worst after learning of the one on one meeting Dragos has set up with Kingpin.

An: Hey 🫣, Please don't be mad. It feels wrong to say I hope you enjoy this one but... I hope we can recover from this together 💜

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The sound of your office door slamming was enough to startle some of the other employees working. You were relatively good at keeping your cool, but your skin felt like it was on fire. Your fists keep clenching and unclenching, trying to find some outlet for the anger.

Pietro and Wanda watch carefully from outside your door as you try to subdue your anger. Wanda wants to go in and comfort you, but Pietro stops her.

“She doesn’t need you to go in there and coddle her,” he speaks to his sister.

“Well, I’m not planning to just watch her like this,” Wanda tries again, but Pietro’s grip on her becomes firmer.

“Wanda she’s not the same- “

Wanda cuts him off, “Y/n told me, that anything I want to know about her can come directly from her. So, if you want to stand out here and watch her suffer, that’s on you. However, I’m checking on our friend.”

Wanda softly raps on the door before entering your office. You don’t move, it’s like she’s not even there. Not until she’s kneeling on the floor next to you. Her hand rests gently on your knee.

“Talk to me little krolik,” it’s soft, merely a suggestion. Wanda is content with the silence, but she wanted to give you the option to talk.

“Wanda she’s not in the mood to-”

Pietro is cut off, by your eyes locking on his. The gaze is harsh enough to shut him up immediately. Even though tears are building behind your eyes, anger seems to be the primary emotion coursing through your body.

“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” you speak not looking at either sibling. “It’s reckless, it’s careless, it’s naïve. Why would he put himself in danger like this? Does he not know that we need him?”

“Papa is doing what he thinks is best to avoid war,” Pietro states, though he barely believes his own words.

“Or he’s giving Kingpin the opportunity to start it with a bang,” you counter.

Wanda takes a sharp breath, “All we can do is prepare for the worst.”

“Wanda, you don’t think that papa will be, okay?” There’s something in Pietro’s tone that sounds fragile. He sounds like a scared little boy. You had almost forgotten that he could sound that way.

“We all think he’s making a mistake. There will be consequences and fallout regardless of the outcome. Papa seems to think he’s preventing a war, but the true war has already started. Kingpin is flipping our associates, encroaching on our properties, and trying to make us a non-factor. The war is here. If he does anything stupid during this meeting, we could end up without a leader.”

“Vulnerable to attacks, we could lose everything,” you add, rubbing your temples.

“What are we going to do?”

Your hand absent-mindedly finds Wanda’s that rests on your knee. You play with her digits as you speak, “If anything happens to Dragos we can’t afford to fall back or lay low. Kingpin and everyone else will assume we are weak and that would be the end of us. We’d have to make a power play, something to show that we are and always will be on top.”

Wanda takes in your features as you speak. Your eyes are hard, and your jaws clenched. There’s a vein along your neck that’s pulsing with your words. As tense as you look, there’s something so calm around you. The hand that’s playing with Wanda’s fingers moves delicately across her knuckles, a complete contrast to the rest of your body language. Wanda thinks you look like a leader.

“We can make an example out of someone?” Pietro hypothesizes.

Wanda adds in her thoughts, “Or something.”

“The docks. We’re getting out shipments primarily through planes and trains, but everyone else uses the docks,” you begin to explain.

“If we target the docks, which means people would have no choice but to come through us for their goods,” Wanda finishes your thoughts.

Pietro is in disbelief, “You guys want to blow up the docks?”

“We could blow them up or we could just make them unable to be used,” Wanda offers a different option.

“Oil spill; stopped the ports for months in California a few years back. No materials could be sent through and the stuff at the docks had to be thrown out because of contamination,” you try to suggest, but it sounds like you made up your mind.

Wanda nods, “I could send Natasha some resources and she could make this concrete enough to put into motion.”

“She’d need to have this ready in potentially 2 to 3 days. If something happens at that meeting, we will need to have this ready quickly.” You begin typing on your computer, to see if you can locate any ships transporting oil passing through in the next few days.

“What can I do?” Pietro asks.

“You need to support Natasha. Wanda’s going to be sending her a lot of information and if you’re there to go over the nuisances it’ll make things easier for everyone.”

“I can head over now,” he says, and you give him a curt nod. He leaves the room once again leaving just you and Wanda.

Wanda breaks the silence, “You’re a natural leader, little krolik.”

You blush at her words and shake your head, “I’m just trying to make sure this empire that your family built doesn’t fall apart. It’s the least I could do after all that you’ve done for me.”

“Our family; you are a part of it,” Wanda corrects you.

“Flora and Dragos are the parents that mine couldn’t be. I know they’re your actual parents and that maybe it's selfish of me to worry, but if anything were to happen to either of them; I don’t know what I’d do,” your hands shoot up to cover your eyes.

You don’t want your tears to fall in front of her. Wanda had seen you cry a lot when you were younger, softer, but this version of yourself; she didn’t cry. She was supposed to be able to hold her emotions. However, the thought of losing the man that had given her everything in this world, was terrifying to her.

Wanda is gentle as she runs a hand through your hair, “It’s a scary thought, losing mama or papa. I’ve thought about it a lot, and it never becomes less scary. The only thing that helps is that I know I won’t have to feel this way on my own.”

“I hate that we have to talk about him like he’s already dead,” your hands stay over your eyes.

“Me too.”

Wanda’s hand in your hair is the only thing keeping you from breaking down. The speaker in your office breaks the building silence.

“Y/n, I just wanted to let you know that Mr. Maximoff has just left,” you hear Kate’s voice announce.

“Thanks for letting me know Katie,” you answer her, as you feel the gravity of the situation set in.

“Y/n… there’s a car in the parking garage with his destination programmed into the GPS,” Kate gives you the information and your ears perk up.

“Kate, did you-”

“Perks of setting up a meeting is knowing exactly where it is. If you go now, you can tail him at a respectable distance just to make sure he’s safe.”

You waste no time getting out of your seat, “God Katie, you’re the best.”

“Anything for you Y/nn and anything for the family of course.”

With Pietro already out of the office, it would be just Wanda and yourself tailing Dragos. When you got to the car Kate had ready for you, Wanda offers to drive. You let her and take the passenger seat quickly texting Pietro the location of the meeting but telling him to stay put unless you message him again.

Your leg bounces recklessly as Wanda drives. The nerves you worked hard to tame seem to be back in full force. The ride feels uncharacteristically quiet, but there isn’t much to say.

“So, you and Kate?” Wanda breaks the silence.

If you weren’t so stressed maybe you’d laugh, “You sound just like your wife. Kate is just my friend, that’s all.”

“I’m just curious. You’ve grown into quite the young women, I’m sure you’ve had a long line of lovers,” Wanda speaks nonchalantly.

You can feel your ears heat at her comment, “I’ve been on some dates, but they don’t usually stick around.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise as she keeps eye focus on the road, “My little krolik is a player then?”

You sputter, “I am not.”

“It sounds to me like you go on few dates, get what you want, and move on to the next,” Wanda’s eyes cut briefly to you.

“You need to stop getting information about me from Pietro, he’s delusional,” you shake your head, face nearly red with embarrassment.

“Then enlighten me.”

You sigh, “I go on the date, it’s just fine, and then I go another date. It’s just that simple.”

“You sound rather unhappy with that.”

You shrug, “This line of work, it’s dangerous. Anything can happen to me, and I have to date someone that I think could handle that. If I don’t think they can, then dating them would be a waste of both of our time. Not all of us can find a hot Russian spy.”

Wanda’s hand rests on your knee, “I suppose not, but I know there’s someone out there for you. You’ve always been a catch Y/n, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

It was easier to run with the narrative that there were other fish in the sea when Wanda wasn’t around. Having her back here was stirring up emotions inside of you. You thought that your liking to Wanda was simply teenage hormones, but you aren’t a teenager anymore. It’s been two days of having Wanda back and you can feel your feelings for her returning in full force.

“Less on my love life, and more on protecting Dragos,” you refocus on the task at hand.

When you’re close to the location, you recognize it as an abandoned construction site. You can see two other cars parked side by side further ahead.

“Park there,” you point out a secluded area where the car won’t be spotted.

Wanda does as you say. As soon as the car stops, you’re exiting it. In your heart you want to run to search for Dragos, but professionally you know that’s not the call.

You and Wanda walk cautiously though the site, the sand around made the walking a more difficult than solid concrete.

You went to take a step, but Wanda’s hand on your shoulder pulls you down into a crouching position. Following her line of sight, you see Dragos and Kingpin talking. You can’t necessarily hear them, but you can tell it’s not a pleasant conversation.

You look around hoping to find a spot close enough to hear, but not close enough to draw attention to yourself. Before you can find anything, Wanda’s hand slips in yours and she’s tugging you along.

She finds a spot with the criteria you were looking for. You two can now hear the conversation between the two men.

“Wilson, I’m telling you, you don’t want this war,” Dragos tries to reason with the man.

“Why not, Maximoff? I ain’t got nothing to lose, but I’ve got everything to gain,” his laugh makes your hand twitch.

You could pull out your gun right now and shoot Fisk in the head. Your hand goes to grab your gun, but Wanda stops you. She’s not even looking at you. Her eyes are scanning around, to make sure you are the only other people here.

“Fisk, I will put you down if you step out of line again.”

“With what army old man? I’ve been taking your allies and gathering your enemies. Step down gracefully and maybe I’ll let you keep some of your business,” Fisk takes a step towards Dragos.

“You’re not taking the empire that I built.”

He sticks out his pinky, showing off his big ring, “It’s time to kiss the ring, Maximoff. It’s time for the kingpin to take his rightful spot at the head of the table.”

“Over my dead body,” Dragos doesn’t back down.

“I knew you would say something like that.”

It happens fast. The gun goes off and instinctively your hand goes over Wanda’s mouth. The cry that was leaving her lips died in it’s spot. Fisk aims his gun again at Dragos’s head but before he can pull the trigger, your other hand starts to shoot at him.

Your hands are shaking, but the shots are enough to cause Kingpin to run away.

“Call the police, go check on him. I’m chasing the bastard,” you don’t give her a chance to protest.

By the time you get back to where the cars were parked, Kingpin’s car is gone. You can’t help it but slam your fist against the nearest pole. You run back to where Wanda is.

Once your next to Wanda and Dragos you take a knee. The man is struggling to breathe with a bullet lodged into his sternum. Wanda shakes as she runs her fingers through his hair and tells him he will be ok.

You’re trying to stay strong, but the tears have already begun to fall. Dragos hand reaches for yours and you let him take it. His grip is weak, and it causes you to lose your composure.

“Papa, I’m sorry- I should’ve shot faster,” you speak what could possibly be your last words to the man who had given you a better life.

He looks at Wanda and then at you. It’s mangled, but he says, “T-take care o-of each other."

“Papa these are not your final words, stop acting like they are. The paramedics are coming, you are going to leave. You have to live,” Wanda snaps at the man.

“You’re m-mother will ne-ver forgive me f-for this,” he wheezes.

“As long as you're breathing, she will forgive you,” you respond.

He laughs but ends up coughing up his own blood. Dragos squeezes your hand, “I’m proud- of both of y-you. Wanda, moye serdtse I- have always believed in y-you. Y/n, moye ditya, I loved b-being your Papa.”

You see his eyes fluttering and you make eye contact with Wanda, “How long did they say Wanda?”

“30 minutes.”

You shake you head, “That’s not fast enough. We have to go now.”

“Y/n-"

“We don’t have time to argue, Wanda. Help me lift him,” you say steeling your nerves.

“Y/n we-”

“HELP ME LIFT HIM.” You weren’t asking anymore.

You start to lift the older man hearing him groan slightly. It’s a good sign, he’s still living. Wanda helps reluctantly. Once you’re at the car, you’re sweating, but you keep moving. You lay him across the back seat.

“You stay in the back with him,” you tell Wanda, getting in the driver’s seat.

As soon as she’s in the car you step on the gas. It’s something akin to the high-speed chase but the stakes are higher. You swerve through traffic and backstreets as much as you can. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins. All you could think about was saving Dragos.

“Wanda, how is he?” You call back to her knowing you had about 5 minutes until the hospital.

“His breaths are shallow Y/n. His eyes are closing,” she updates you with a shaky voice.

“Papa, Wanda’s going to squeeze your hand, squeeze back if you can. Keep squeezing until we get you there,” Your voice is raised but you aren’t yelling.

Wanda puts her hand in her father’s. He squeezes it gently, the pressure is weak, but it’s there.

You continue to swerve around traffic but each minute his grasp grows weaker. You pull into the emergency parking section at the hospital and start to scream for help.

People start to crowd around your car, and everything seems like it’s moving too fast. People are getting Dragos from your car. Wanda is in hysterics as it seems like dozens of people start wheeling her father away. You sit at the wheel of the car unable to move, unable to think.

You make the calls, so Wanda doesn’t have to. It doesn’t take long for the family to get to the hospital. They’re all wrecks. The Maximoff’s all have identical puffy red eyes as they hope to hear something from the doctor.

“You aren’t going to sit with them,” It’s Natasha who takes a seat next to you.

You shake your head, “I can’t, not right now. They need their space.”

“You’ve shed just as many tears as them lisichka,” Natasha cautiously brings her finger to your face wiping a stray tear.

“You should be comforting your wife, not me,” you say to her.

“She’s not the one sitting away from her family mourning alone when it isn’t necessary,” Natasha stands and extends her hand to you.

For awhile you just stare, but she’s unrelenting. You sigh taking her hand, it’s not soft like you expected it to be. It’s a little rough and warm, but it brings you comfort all the same.

Natasha sits next to Wanda, and you take a seat next to Pietro. Instantly his arm wraps around your shoulder pulling you close. The action breaks you as you bury your head into his chest and begin to silently sob.

He places a kiss on the top of your head and rubs your back. It makes you feel like a kid again. It had been so long since you needed something like this. The adrenaline was wearing off and all you were left with was an empty feeling.

You start to mumble that you’re sorry against your friend as your body softly shakes.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” Flora calls to you from her seat next to Pietro.

You do as she says, “This isn't your fault.  There's nothing you could've done.”

You open your mouth to protest, but the woman gives you a stern look. It quiets you, but you continue to feel guilty.

“Stop thinking so much. We don't know anything until the doctors tell us,” You wipe your tears at her words.

“Yes, mama,” you say it without realizing and when you do, your face heats up.

Flora opens her arms for you, and you switch from Pietro to her. Her hug is warm and strong. She wipes the tears from your face and looks at you with caring eyes.

“Everything will be ok moye ditya,” her words bring you great comfort.

“Family of Dragos Maximoff,” the doctor calls out and you all stand swiftly.

This is the moment of truth. You pray that you acted fast enough; that he would be ok. The somber look on the doctor’s face crushes those dreams instantly.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok

[polarspaz]

Steve10 AU TIDBITS 1

-Steve obtains the Omnitirx at the end of Season 2. Jake and Mila aren't born until the end of season 4, but after they are born Steve quickly moves out of his parent's house before they can find out about them. With Hopper's help, Steve manages to get a halfway decent trailer out in the woods, allowing them some semblance of privacy.

-In the beginning the Omnitrix is very temperamental and will sometimes trigger without Steve's input. By the end of season 3 this stops, as the Omnitrix has fully merged with his DNA and body at this point. But until then, this causes a lot of awkward moments for Steve, especially when he's in public and only has literal seconds to hide before he transforms.

-This is how Robin finds out about Steve's situation. While working at SCOOPS during a rush hour, the Omnitrix starts beeping. Panicked, Steve tells Robin he's going on break before rushing into the back room, but she not having it, especially when there are twenty angry customers in line scowling back at her. She darts after him, ready to rip him a new one, but instead she see's him transform into a giant fish monster.

-Steve immediately tries to plead with Robin not scream, but he's having a hard time doing it considering he currently can't breath. ((The damn watch had turned him into RipJaws, an alien fish that could only breath underwater)) Still, he tries to calm her down between pained gasps, promising her that he wasn't going to hurt her, but also begging her not to cause a scene. Then, just as he's about to pass out, he feels her grab his arm, drag him over to the sink, and shove his head under the gushing faucet.

-"You so owe me an explanation fish boy!"Robin snaps at him, but she ironically sounds more concerned than scared, so Steve considers this outcome a win. By the end of the shift Robin gets the low down and to his shock and suprise, promises not to rat out him out, but in exchange he has to drive her to work.

-Steve's parents find out about Jake and Mila a year and a half after they are born. At this point the kid's are able to take on human forms thanks to the Omnitrix, so his parents have no idea they are part alien, but that does little to quell the fallout that happens next.

-Mila and Jake look older than they are, meaning his parents assume that not only had Steve been hiding these kids for at least 3-5 years, but that he had also gotten someone pregnant when he was just a kid himself. The worst part though was when Steve couldn't deny their accusations.

-Part of Steve had been hoping his parents would accepts Jake and Mila even without knowing their origin. That they would looks past the obvious questionable situation and love his kids no matter what, but that apparently wasn't the case. Seeing their outright rejection, Steve realizes he can't trust his parents any further, and just let's them assume the worse of him. They could believe whatever they wanted, as long as Jake and Mila were safe, along with their secret.

-In the end, Steve's parents disown him and leave. Steve is left with a crying Jake and Mila, and honestly Steve wants to cry with them too, but he focusing on calming them down instead. After an hour, the two kids pass out from exhaustion and Steve is alone in the bathroom, puking up his guts from stress.

-But an hour later, to Steve's astonishment, he finds Hopper and Joyce at his door looking worried beyond belief. Before Steve can even ask how they know, Joyce immediately envelopes him in a big hug, causing him to cry a little. But Steve happily returns the gesture, immensely grateful and happy to know he isn't alone in this.

[scaradooche]

Lovesick

Buzzing, buzzing is what you wake up to. More specifically buzzing from your phone. You pick up your phone all drowsy to see someone calling you. “Hm?” you say waiting for the other person on the line to speak.

“Y/n where the fuck are you right now? Lumine says hastily.

“At my house.” You mumble

“Y/n it’s 7:58 am school starts at 8.”

You immediately hang up without saying another word. You rush out of bed dreading the outcome of the day already.

It’s 8:20 am when you get to school. You walk slow trying to delay your arrival to your first class which is Ap physics with one of the worst teachers. Ms. Cordez. Great. You take the time to actually look at the outfit you’re wearing. You’re wearing black sweats with a gray sweater and a white shirt. The outfit you picked out wasn’t that bad for picking random stuff you saw in your room but it wasn’t exactly something you would normally wear. You stopped, you didn’t know why. It was like your mind wasn’t processing anything your body was doing. You pick up your head from looking at the ground to realize that you’re in front of your class. You take a deep breath and enter the classroom.

You’re not even one step in before you here a “Ah, look who decided to show up.”

“Hello..” you mutter trying to make your way to your seat.

“Not so fast young lady, why are you late?” You hear Ms. Cordick Cordez say.

“Overslept..”

“Give me a full sentence.”

“I overslept.” you state clearly getting annoyed of her. Sometimes you wonder to yourself if she actually has a life outside of school. You could never imagine that. There is reason why she’s a Ms. and not a Mrs.

“Do you think that is a full sentence?” she says in a irritated voice. When looking at her face you notice that she looks as red as a lobster. You find the comparison quite funny. If you really think about it she does have facial features that do resemble one.

“Yes.”

“Oh, so you want to give me attitude now?” She says in the most obnoxious way ever. At this point you just think she’s trying to get under your skin.

“What the hell? I’m not-“ you try to speak before Ms. Cordez interrupts you.

“We do not use this kind of language in this classroom.” She speaks with a pissy tone.

‘You’re being dramatic, you need to actually chill it’s not a big deal.”

“You do not tell me to chill. I am not your friend. I am your teacher. You need to learn some manners young lady. Detention after school.”

You give her a blank stare before walking to your seat. What a pleasant start to your day you think.

3:00 pm, school finally ended and you can see people heading out of there classes. Some heading out with their friends most likely having plans since it’s a Friday others just going home. You pull out your phone to text your friends.

You close your phone heading to Ms. Cordicks classroom to spend two hours of your life doing absolutely nothing. When you get there the first thing she has you do is check in and hand her your phone.

“You’ll get this back after you serve your time.”

You nod your head and find a table to sit at. Once you find a desk you bring out a notebook planning to just doodle instead of doing any actual work. Around 5 minutes later you see more students coming in you hope that none of them sit next to you. You never really liked the fact that she had table with chairs instead of just desks. Another 5 minutes later Ms. Cordez decides to speak.

“Seeing that everyone is here, I would like to say that I’m not going to be in the same room with you while you serve your time here. Instead I’ll be in another room with Mrs. Smith grading work together. I assume you won’t leave this room without your phones. I except you all to be doing work for the next two hours.” She’s says hastily before she walks out.

Once she leaves you see friends that were split up start getting up and sitting together. The news that she’s not going to be in this room doesn’t affect you at all. While you’re doodling you hear someone getting up. It doesn’t bother you since a lot of people are getting up right now and changing their seats. It doesn’t bother you until this person sits next to you. You stop doodling and look up at this person to only realize it was him. The kids older brother. Your “boyfriend”. Childe.

Prev||Masterlist||Next 2.5: Fuck you Ms. Cordick

Fun Facts:

Idk how to write accurate detention scenes since I’ve never gotten detention 😝😝😍😍

Idk how to write so don’t mind my bad writing

Ms. Cordez is my irl teacher I hate her sm praying on her downfall everyday 😍

Next chapter will probably be uploaded today and it’s gonna be majority writing 😝 be prepared for more of my bad writing 😍😍🔥🔥

No character fun facts this chapter 😔😞😣 the first half wants to be bold for some reason pls don’t mind it 😓😓

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 94

This chapter is the same as the one before but from Bucky's POV. I thought I would delve into his mind with this one, because I thought it would add to the depth of the story to know what was going on in his mind, during this. I hope you guys like it. Thank you for reading, as always. <3

The moment I heard they were coming to Wakanda, my mind raced with all the possible outcomes. I had thought about reaching out so many times before, but I always held back, afraid I’d be intruding on their lives. Their world was already chaotic enough, always on the run—I didn’t want to add my mess to it.

Shuri had suggested more than once that I use one of their many secure communication channels, assuring me that there were safe ways to contact them without alerting the government. Every time, I refused, telling her it was too risky. But deep down, that wasn’t the real reason. I had hoped they’d mended their relationship, and if they had, I wasn’t sure where I would fit in anymore.

Now, as I paced up and down, waiting for their quinjet to land, I found myself rehearsing what I would say to them. I’d missed them more than I realized. Wakanda had brought me peace and healing parts of me, but without them, there had always been something missing.

Steve stepped out first, and I could tell right away that the last few years hadn't been kind to him. He looked worn down, the weight of everything reflected in the lines on his face. The beard aged him, giving him a rugged appearance that replaced the boyish charm he once had. He used to carry a certain youthful energy, but that was long gone—he looked like a man hardened by life.

Still, I couldn’t help but smile when we hugged. "How have you been, Buck?" he asked, pulling back with a tired but genuine smile.

"Uh, not bad... for the end of the world," I replied with a smirk, though my mind was elsewhere. As I glanced around, a knot of anxiety formed in my chest. Where was she? I had assumed she would be here, but now the doubts were creeping in. What if she wasn’t coming? My thoughts raced, filling with all the worst possibilities for why she might not be here.

Steve must’ve noticed the worry on my face because he stepped aside, revealing her standing at the ramp of the jet. I swallowed hard, my heart beating faster than it should. I had spent so much time in Wakanda, thinking it would repair the broken parts of me, but nothing could fix the wrong feelings that surged whenever I looked at her—my friend.

She looked at me, hesitation flickering across her face, her eyes filled with the same worry I’d seen in Steve’s. For a moment, it felt like everything stood still. Then, with tears brimming in her eyes, she rushed toward me, almost crashing into me as she threw her arms around me.

I wasn’t ready for this. The feel of her arms around me, the familiar scent of her—it was too much. All those emotions I’d tried to bury hit me at once, and I didn’t have time to put up my guard. I stood there, frozen, overwhelmed by her presence and everything I had tried so hard to keep under control.

She pulled back hesitantly, and the reality of the moment settled back in. Steve’s eyes rested on us, a smile playing on his face. I tried to read into it, to gauge if things between them were okay, but there was nothing to go on—just that familiar Steve smile as if everything was normal.

“We’ll take Vision to the lab. Why don’t you two catch up?” Steve’s voice broke through my thoughts, and my heart leaped at the idea of being alone with her. But almost immediately, a wave of dread followed. No, she should say no. She should go with them, I thought. It would be better that way.

"Are you sure?" she asked, glancing between the two of us, and for a moment I couldn’t tell if she wanted to stay with me or go with him. My chest tightened at the uncertainty.

Steve nodded with a smile. "Yeah. Enjoy the peace and quiet before everything goes to hell."

He was right—Wakanda wouldn’t stay peaceful for much longer. If we were going to talk, it had to be now. She nodded, agreeing with him, before turning back to me. As Steve and the others headed off toward the lab, the weight of the moment settled on my shoulders.

We walked through the city, the animated chatter of people around us mixing with the warm smiles of those who recognized me. "The White Wolf," they called me. Wakanda had welcomed me when the rest of the world had cast me out, and in its quiet acceptance, I had found peace—a sense of calm I hadn’t known in years. Yet, as I walked beside her, the thought crept in, uninvited: I would give up all of this just to be with her. The moment it surfaced, I shut it down, forcing the rising feelings back into the depths where they belonged.

I realized I had been staring at her too long and quickly cleared my throat, hoping she hadn’t noticed. “So, how have you been?” I asked with a smile, guiding her through the familiar paths of the city I walked every day. Her expression faltered at the question, a crack in her otherwise tired demeanor, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. She looked exhausted, but something deeper seemed to lurk behind her weary eyes.

“Forget about me,” she said with a forced smile, brushing my question aside. “How have you been? How long have you been out of cryo?”

I had dreaded this question, fearing she’d ask me why I hadn’t reached out. The truth gnawed at me—I didn’t want to stir up more turmoil in her life. It went against everything I wanted. She was the first thought I had after waking from cryo, but the second thought was that I didn’t need to make her life harder than it already was.

“A while…” I stammered, my voice quieter than intended. “They woke me not long after they found a way to get those words out of my head.” My mind flashed back to those agonizing months of work, the moments when I was finally freed from the torment.

Her face faltered, and I felt the sting of guilt. But hurting her with my absence was better than the chaos I would have unleashed by intruding into their lives. Staying away had been the right choice—it was good for them, and it was good for me. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. Yet here I was, struggling to get through this conversation without thinking of the way her lips felt or admiring how her hair shimmered in the sunlight.

"I knew you were on the run, so I figured it was best not to reach out," I said, trying to keep things light even though a part of me hated that I hadn't. "Wakanda has been a blessing, honestly. I just wish you two could’ve been here too."

We strolled toward the cottage where I’d been living, the familiar path calming me as we approached the bench overlooking the lake. Laughter rang out from children splashing in the water nearby, their joy a stark contrast to the heaviness in my chest.

She stared at the scene for a moment before turning to me, her eyes soft but distant. "So... did they help you? With the trigger words, I mean?" she asked, her gaze shifting back to the kids, a sad smile flickering on her face.

"Yeah," I nodded, my heart still not fully believing the reality I was living. "I can’t believe I’m saying this, but... I’m free." I pointed to the small cottage across the lake. "I’ve been living there. It’s so peaceful here, and the people... they’re incredible. I haven’t felt this way in—well, in a long, long time."

I wanted her to believe it too, that I was content, that we could go back to being friends again. Maybe, with enough time, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

She looked back at me with a smile that was both happy and sad. "I’m so happy for you, Buck."

I felt a warmth in her words, but I couldn’t help wanting more. "You and Steve could stay here when this is all over," I suggested, my voice hopeful. "It’s not Brooklyn, but the air’s a lot better."

She smiled again, her eyes scanning the lake, watching the children wave at me. I waved back before glancing at her. I could see the weight she carried, but at this moment, there was a little light in her eyes, if only for a second.

"It sounds amazing, Buck," she said, her voice soft. But then her tone shifted, and the warmth in her eyes dimmed. "But I can’t... at least, not for a while. There’s something I have to do."

I felt my heart sink at the change in her tone, the way her voice wavered with pain. Something was wrong. The peaceful moment was slipping away, the weight of reality crashing back down.

"Do what?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, but I could already sense that whatever she was about to say would hurt.

She hesitated, fidgeting with her hands before finally meeting my eyes, and the sorrow in her gaze made my stomach twist.

"Steve and I have a son," she said, the words spilling out like a confession. I froze, my mind struggling to catch up. A son. They had a son.

The world felt like it had tilted, and I was left trying to find my balance. She continued, but all I could focus on was those words. "A son." She had a family—with Steve.

"Hydra ambushed us in the middle of the night and dragged me away," she explained, her voice trembling. "They drugged me, kept me unconscious through the whole pregnancy, and stole my baby, leaving me behind like trash."

The moment she mentioned Hydra, my heart clenched. My blood ran cold at the sound of that name. The same people who had taken everything from me, who had ripped apart my life—had done it to her too. I could barely process the fact that she had a son with Steve because my mind was burning with rage. Hydra had their hands on her child.

"His name is Dr. Locke," she continued, her voice breaking as tears welled in her eyes. "He has my son, and I won’t rest until I have him back."

I didn’t know what to say. The woman I cared about, the person I’d been avoiding for so long to protect her, had been living through a nightmare. But as much as it hurt to hear about what Hydra had done to her, I could not ignore the pain of knowing she had a child. A child with Steve.

But even through that pain, the anger burned hotter. Hydra. They had her son. And if they still had him, there was no telling what they were doing to him. A child… Steve's son, her son, stuck in their hands. The thought of it made me sick. I knew too well what they were capable of.

I was momentarily stunned, trying to process what she’d just told me. After a deep breath, I pulled her into a tight hug, trying to offer whatever comfort I could.

Holding her like this, I reminded myself that this was about her, not me. The fact that she had a child with Steve was a blow I hadn’t expected, but I was determined to be there for her, no matter what.

When I pulled back, I met her gaze with a resolute expression. “Do you have any leads?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, nothing. I only know the doctor’s name—Doctor Locke.” Her face tightened as she spoke, and I could feel my own expression darken.

“Do you know him?” she asked her voice tight with worry.

I nodded, my face hardening. “I do.” We’d crossed paths before. He’d tormented me in countless ways, obsessed with creating the perfect super soldier. I was never good enough for him, and he made sure I knew it. I took her hand firmly. “We will get your son back, I promise.”

Seeing the hope in her eyes, even just a flicker, gave me the push I needed. I was determined to make good on that promise, no matter what it took.

Next Chapter

[smolmakerel]

Life after the Ghostface killings in New York City was somewhat peaceful. As peaceful as it could be with the entire internet hounding you that you were going to end up becoming a serial killer like your dad.

If Sam had it her way, she would ban the internet. Because, honestly? Most of them were a bunch of incels (whatever that even meant. Sam overheard Mindy saying Richie was an incel and assumed it to mean a shitty person - which, true) who needed a positive social life.

And incels were why Sam usually stayed inside nowadays, because she didn't want to deal with shitty people trying to kill her. Again. For the third time.

Literally isolating herself led to the worst possible outcome.

For Tara.

"Um, Sam?"

Sam didn't bother putting the impact driver in her hand down. She whipped around and grinned at her bemused and annoyed sister coming into the living room.

Tara eyed the power tool in Sam's hand, the few screws poking out of her teeth, and the halfway-put-together hammock limp on the floor.

"Is there a reason why you're drilling holes in the wall?" Tara deadpanned, pulling her arms tight across her chest.

Sam looked down at the hammock as if it was obvious. It was kind of obvious. No, it was really obvious. The hammock was still half drilled into the wall and patiently waiting to be stuck across the room to stretch out. She opened her mouth to let the screws fall into her palm.

"I'm hanging a hammock."

"Why?"

"Because?"

"At 2 in the morning?" Sam went to open her mouth to defend herself, but Tara quickly narrowed her eyes and spoke up again. "When I have a final worth 40% of my grade at 9 in the morning?"

Sam slowly closed her jaw.

Tara held her angry glare for exactly 10 seconds before her shoulders dropped as she sighed. She trudged to the chair and curled up in it, patiently watching Sam watching her. Sam perked up at the silent "go on" from her sister.

"It was supposed to be a surprise for you," Sam admitted. She began to stretch the hammock to the other wall and used her stud finder on the wall. She sighed. "I guess I lost track of time."

Tara raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "So you haven't eaten all day?"

Sam laughed at that, nearly slipping and drilling her hand to the wall. Tara jolted at that but calmed down once Sam continued to laugh.

"That's my line, Tara." Sam tugged on the newly drilled hammock and sighed once she was satisfied it wasn't coming down. "Do you like it?"

"I think I'd like it even more if I didn't have to wake up during the installation."

Ok. Fine. Whatever.

Sam dramatically rolled her eyes and discarded the impact driver and stud finder on the half of the couch the hammock didn't cover. She flopped onto the hammock with a groan, hands behind her head.

"I'll just use it then," Sam teased with her eyes closed, "since someone doesn't appreciate honest work."

She could feel the side eye Tara was giving her, and she couldn't help but feel slightly panicked.

Did Tara really not like the gift? Was it over the top? Did it remind Tara too much of... before?

Before Sam could mentally degrade herself about how she should've known better than to burden Tara with this gift, the hammock rocked.

Sam snapped her eyes open at the tipping of the hammock and immediately threw her foot down to the floor for stability. Tara, from Sam's sudden movement, fell the rest of the way into the hammock.

Tara wriggled around, trying to get comfortable, and Sam laid as still as she could. As soon as Tara relaxed, almost completely on top of her older sister, Sam wrapped her arms around Tara and squeezed.

"Gotcha!" Sam said with a kiss to the crown of her head.

Tara grumbled, exhausted.

It was quiet after that. Sam rubbed soothing circles into Tara's back and hummed whatever song came to mind.

"Sammy?" Tara's tired voice slurred into Sam's shoulder. Sam hummed. "I love it; thank you so, so much. I feel like a kid again."

Sam swallowed. Wow. No one had ever really shown appreciation for the things she gave them. To hear how much Tara loved it made Sam love the gift too.

"It's nothing," Sam tried to downplay how happy she was, but the pitch in her voice gave it away.

Tara nuzzled deeper into her sister's bodywarmth, and Sam reached out to snag the wooly blanket from the couch beneath the hammock and toss it over them. Humming, Tara fully relaxed.

"Dos oruguitas," Sam softly sang, tucking Tara's hair behind her ear, "enamoradas.¹"

"Pasan sus noches," Tara mumbled, not even bothering to try and sing right now, "y madrugadas.²"

Sam snorted. Her foot began to lightly kick against the ground to sway the hammock.

The whir of the heater drowned out the honking outside of people rushing to get home and out of the way of the incoming snow storm.

Tara's shoulders hitched, drawing Sam's attention to them. Her eyes went wide when warm tears began to soak her shirt collar.

"Tara? Mi mariposa, ¿qué ocurre?" Sam lifted the two of them up enough so she could wipe away the tears flowing down Tara's cheeks. Each tear was a punch to the gut, and Sam wanted nothing more than to lightly assault whatever made Tara cry. "¿Estás bien?³"

Tara shook her head. "No es nada.⁴ I was thinking about our backyard. We used to do this all the time." She laughed wetly, full of tears. "I didn't know how much I missed it until now."

So... Sam needed to lightly assault herself. Got it.

At least she could make up for all of those afternoon naps in their backyard hammock she missed now.

"Me too," Sam agreed with a smile. She cupped Tara's face and kissed her forehead, and Tara sank into the action with a tired sigh. "Now -" Sam pulled back with a mock stern glare -"you're going back to sleep. You have your final in the morning. Why are you even awake right now?"

"What? You're the one that -"

"Shh, less talking more sleeping."

Tara huffed, but it sounded suspiciously like muffled laughter.

Sam pulled Tara back down and continued to rub her back and push her foot to move the hammock. The soothing motions combined with Sam's warmth lulled Tara into an easy sleep.

But Sam never stopped rocking her foot. She pulled the blanket higher over both of them before hugging her sister.

With Tara now sleeping, Sam silently dissolved into a mess of tears. She was glad Tara wasn't seeing this moment of weakness from her. What would she think of Sam if she knew Sam cried so easily over her?

"Te amo, Tara," she said as she gathered Tara as close as she could, until the world shifted and the puzzle completed. She was whole again. "Te amo mucho, mi corazón.⁵"

Sam closed her eyes and fell asleep with her entire world in her arms.

— ● — ○ — ● — ○ —

1: Two little caterpillars in love

2: They spend their nights and early mornings

3: My butterfly, what's going on? Are you ok?

4: It's nothing.

5: I love you, Tara. I love you so much, my heart.

[icantthinkyandere]

Hi there! Can i request a yandere tamamo no mae, yandere medusa and yandere proto merlin (lady avalon)? If not you can ignore this if you like, have a nice day!

Sorry this took so long! My semester was harder than I thought, but it's over now, so I can write these again. I hope you also have a nice day!

Yandere proto Merlin/Lady Avalon here

{Yandere Medusa}

Medusa isn't a servant who would become a yandere quickly. She's been mistreated so much in the past, not just by her sisters but by people in general. So, to get her interested, you'd have to be kind to her often and treat her like a human instead of a monster.

The smaller and simpler, the better. Going in strong would just make her think you're trying to get on her good side. Greeting her in the hallway like any other person, sitting with her in the cafeteria, and giving her small gifts or trinkets from Singularities/Lostbelts are things that she would prefer much more.

After all these simple acts of kindness, she realizes she is starting to get familiar feelings. It's a lot like her old feelings for Sakura when they were with each other. Having someone be kind to her and treat her like any other person in Chaldea makes her want to always be there to protect them.

The meaner, clinger, or just a servant who used to be an emeny. Her feelings get stronger due to her starting to be afraid of the servants hurting them in some way or trying to use them for some evil deeds.

Her protectiveness goes to more areas than just servants. She'll make lists about any possible allergies and likes/dislikes to ensure no kinds of negative reactions. She has them for everything, how many people you've talked to and who, tier lists of favorite foods, colors, etc. Their safety and happiness have become her top objective.

She's worried that if she admits her feelings or acts on them, she'll scare you away, and you'll never want to even be the same building as her. So, instead, she settles in just following them around Chaldea quietly. Whether you're the master of Chaldea or a staff member, this won't change much.

If you're the master, she'll train and do whatever is possible to provide that she is a servant you should have by your side. Not only does getting stronger help her protect you more easily, but it also allows her to be a top pick for any kind of mission. She might go as far as to try to convince Da Vinci to add her to must have servants. Being forced by your side makes it much easier to keep an eye on you, other servants, and possibly danger along the road.

She's one of the only servants I can see confessing her feelings. Her paranoia to anything that is a threat for your safety and happiness next to her possessive feelings and the lengths it will go make her wonder if SHE'S a threat.

Stating that she has deep feelings for them, how she wants to be by their side at all costs to protect them from. If you don't get the under lining signs of how intense her feelings are and just assume that she is in love and the protectiveness comes from being a servant, it really just sounds like a normal confession.

If her feelings are accepted, she'll be incredibly surprised. She thought she would get turned down and told her feelings were wrong. But being over all happy, the best outcome happened. She won't immediately jump into her yandere attics, not wanting to do anything that would push them away. But once she gets the go-ahead, her behavior will go from 25 to 100.

She's very slowly to gain feelings due to all the negative she's had to face. But, once someone has managed to get her trust by showing that they don't view her as a monster but as a person. She slowly becomes overprotective to the point she starts taking notes of everything about them and around them. She doesn't expect to have her feelings returned, so she tries to stick to being the best servant she can until it's too much to bear. The worst outcome for being rejected casting her into a pit of depression not even seeing Parvati, makes her happy.

{Yandere Tamamo no mae}

Having Tamamo as a yandere really depends on who you are in Chaldea. With how she treats them, how others view it and a lot more.

If you're the master of Chaldea, it's pretty normal. Her fawning over them and arguing with other servants whether they are interested in them romantically or not. She doesn't care if you're there to witness these fights. The only thing that matters to her is if you're with her. With most of these fights happening because they interrupted her doing her wifely duties and her complaining about people trying to ruin her marriage.

If you tell her to fight less with other servants, she will "agree" while pouting. Agree in quotes because it just chances to her threating and arguing with them behind their back instead.

One of the worst things that can happen with her is restricting your eating. You're only allowed to eat what she makes for you. If she sees you eating food that wasn't made from her, she will throw it away and drag you to make something else instead. She'll try to make whatever you want, even if it might not turn out well.

One of the reasons why this is the worst she can do is because if she catches you eating food that isn't hers too often, she will start preventing you from eating. Not just food made by others, but even her own. This, of course, leads to many massive fights between her, other servants, and even normal none magically gifted human staff.

She loves her darling master a lot, and others need to know. They need to know to stay away from them unless they would like to die. Killing someone is an empty threat since she knows that she can't. Not only will their beloved be mad with her, but there's no telling what Da Vinci and higher authority Chaldea staff will do to her if she makes them lose a servant or an employee.

The best she can do for now is get "peace pacts" with other servants. Which is pretty much her allowing other servants to interact with her master as long as they inform her what was talked about, who was talked about, who joined, who left, who sat were, ect ect. She picks who is allowed to know about this secret agreement and who isn't. She knows there are just as many, if not more, servants around that are willing to have this discussion, then immediately tell the master.

This strategy is so important to her that she spends days making lists of servants she can trust to be around you and give her the information she needs. The reason it takes days is because there are so many servants, and she can't stand a minute, not being next to her beloved. It's not smart to make a secret plan when you're around the person the plan is about 24/7.

If her beloved is an employee and not a master, it is less likely but a lot easier for her. In the case she doesn't click with her master, much to her disappointment. She'll be more distant to them and other servants since she just doesn't see the point. To get her attention, you'd have to push past her rough outside and be kind to her. Then your life is over, I mean, your life with her beginnings.

It takes time, but as you keep being nice to her, she reciprocates that kindness. Starting small with little treats and advice. Then, it turns into her being hanging around them more often since she has nothing else to do. Finally, she moved into their room and told brags about her new amazing beloved. You will be the first to know, but depending on what kind of person you are, you might think her suddenly calling you pet names and husband/wife a joke.

It's really nice at first! She makes breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Keeps you company, encourages you, keeps your room clean, and is very affectionate in general.

However, whenever you try to do your job, no matter the job, she will complain.

"Why do you need to work in the infirmary? Asclepius is pretty much the god of doctors! He can do it."

"You don't need to prepare food for tomorrow's breakfast. I cook for you, and Emiya probably already did it before anyone else could!"

She always says that with the other staff already around, plus the servants who have a lot of knowledge in these fields, you're not really needed, you can just stay with her instead of working.

Since you're not the master of Chaldea she's clingy onto, you're not as important to some people and servants. This doesn't mean other servants won't stand up for you, especially if you have already befriend them.

Whether it's the medical type servants like Irisviel and Nightingale or servants who help in the kitchen like Emiya and Raikou, they will notice a sudden absence. With them going to directly ask if everything is okay. Tamamo says they are, of course, just in need of a little rest. As well as, don't you have something more important to do than worry about a random staff member?

It's hard for her to isolate the master, but they're just a staff member, so who cares? The only way she'd begrudgingly allowed them to go back to work is if someone said if they're truly that worthless here, they might as well be fired and allowed to leave.

[x-authorship-x]

"I'll die on the hill that Anakin should have been punted into the creche for a few years"

Yes! I'm so glad you agree, I wish more fics had him interacting with his agemates and being in the creche would have been good for him I think. Perhaps I'm giving him too much credit, and I've only watched those movies once and base the rest of what I know on what I get from fanfics so I could be wrong, but my read of that meeting was that Qui-Gon had intended that? He said he'll train Anakin, but 1. he had a padawan still, and 2. Anakin was 9?? That seems super, super young to be a padawan. I always found it really weird in fics that he had wanted to take Anakin on so young, and then I watched the movie and ended up finding it really weird that the council and Obi-Wan just assumed Qui-Gon meant he'd start training Anakin right then and there and toss out Obi-Wan. Why would he, that makes no sense and he never said he'd take Anakin as a padawan right then like I thought he had from fics. It seemed more to me like it was a promise or vow type thing, like he'd train Anakin when the time came so they didn't have to worry about trying to find someone who would train an unorthodox padawan. And then everyone immediately thought the worst of him so he stupidly doubled down and did not make any attempt to correct their miscommunication. From what little I know about Qui-Gon and his relationship with Obi-Wan there seemed to be a good amount of miscommunication, so this made the most sense to me that he'd be stubborn and double down when arguing with the council rather than explaining what he meant. So when he died Obi-Wan had no idea what he meant and went with what he though Qui-Gon meant and insisted Anakin be placed with him right then and there. Nevermind that he was grieving and Anakin was super baby for a padawan, honestly I'm going to blame the council here for not stepping in and saying Anakin would go to the creche for a few years, then Obi-Wan could have him. Idk I'm not even a huge fan of Qui-Gon and honestly don't know much about him, but in this case this is what seemed most likely to me when I watched it.

Oh anon I totally agree

Tbh my mind went forwards and I was thinking more.... Anakin in the creche could've fixed a lot. Like... Anakin made his own (shit) decisions, I'm definitely not an Anakin-apologist, but I do think that no one is born a certain thing and that childhood has a big knock-on effect. Putting Anakin in the creche would make transitioning from life as a slave easier, for one??? Like let's not immediately call someone else 'master' and let's socialise the kid and let's get an actual childcare specialist - not a traumatized grieving ex-padawan-turned-Knight oh my God everyone needs therapy good intentions don't automatically guarantee good outcomes - involved.

I'm not saying Kelleran Beq looks like the kinda man to rehab hurt children on the daily basis but that's exactly what I'm saying. God I love that man and his Grogu chase scene. Is Grogu in the creche yet or am I too early??? Who cares, I think Grogu would be so good for Anakin because can you imagine being the so called Chosen One but shown up by a baby. You can't fight a baby, not even Anakin (not yet rip) so you gotta just take the ego trimming and cope.

Get Anakin to learn to read and write and acclimatize, let Obi-Wan have time to establish himself as an individual, let everyone take a chill pill, and maybe the whole cast will feel better in three or four years 🙃 also this helps solve Anakin's INTENSE only child energy because Chosen One shit doesn't mean crap in the creche, being a freed slave probably isn't uncommon when you look at how a lot of force sensitive kids end up at the temple (every Jedi comes with a built in troubling backstory as standard), Anakin has friends and peers to cut his teeth on and learn patience with and how to check boundaries with and you just KNOW that those creche kids have so many lessons on Stranger Danger-!

qui-gon the future we couldve had if you choked out a few more words lmao

Also I like to imagine that anakin's first language is Huttese and he only knows enough Basic to understand customers and Watto etc so in my mind the council meeting SHOULDVE derailed when Anakin can't understand a word they're saying and the whole timeline careens towards 'lets get this freed child slave his vaccines and a primary school teacher before deciding the words of destiny, yes?'

Qui-Gon: *finally asks something not related to customer service, basic conversational vocab, or mechanics*

Anakin: ....uhhhhhhh

Qui-Gon, off camera: I was so lost in the euphoria of finding the Chosen One that I temporarily forgot I existed in a world with slavery and other languages haha-

Obi-Wan: *face down in a dune in the BG*

The end :)

[asknarashikari]

Perhaps this won't sit well with you, but I think I gotta bring this up to you, someone who ACTUALLY acknowledged that Keiwa was in the wrong in ep. 8.

To sum it up, Keiwa was a good boi, but he's not actually an idealist. Just want to point out that idealism (worldview) isn't an inherent part of kindness (action).

He's actually cynical, shown in the very 1st episode, that his speech shows he's bitter regarding life, of how his life is going nowhere, and likely also about how life isn't always going like what he envisions, like there are people not contributing to peace, or screwing over others. Like to other DGP players when they have goals conflicting with his world peace one, lacking understanding of it (including why risking their lives for it), and guilt-tripping them when he's not going to win.

But what keeps him going is Sara, where as he said, he'd work creating a peaceful world so she can be safe there. And anytime his main motivation is put on danger, while it's natural to be protective of her, it also frequently brings his worst side.

And ep. 8 shows that he puts Sara's safety above anything else, including other Rider's wishes to guarantee it by having them act as baits, but after Ace's lecture, he still focuses on saving Sara even if it doesn't immediately defeat the boss, by attacking the tree, and he's ok that he can no longer continue as long as Sara is guaranteed safe.

That time Ace also asks him if he'd care about the world if he and Sara can be safe and happy together… and Keiwa had no response. In ep. 41 it's shown that world peace doesn't matter to him if Sara is gone. With Sara gone, as Bujin Sword he has less qualms being ruthless and creating bloodshed to achieve what he wants as Sara isn't a potential crossfire victim in this conflict.

This might be sad, but sometimes characters aren't archetypes that can only be fixed as one thing, but they're individuals that has various outcomes, including having a mix of positive and negative development.

Hmm... I don't necessarily see Keiwa being unhappy about his prospects at the beginning of the show as him being a cynic. Being upset about the reality of things doesn't mean that he no longer wants to do things by his own ideals. It just means that he's confronted by how difficult it is to actually execute in practice.

What I think is that people mistakenly assume that Keiwa's idealism has always been purely motivated by selflessness. The desire itself (i.e. his wish for a peaceful world/a world where the DGP victims were revived) is idealistic, and I do think part of it is Keiwa genuinely just wanting a better world for everyone. However, he also wants that ideal world because of Sara, especially after the reveal of how their parents really died.

His priorities shifted towards protecting her as the show goes on and she gets exposed to more and more danger. As he told Ace, while working for the greater good (i.e. making his wish of reviving the DGP victims) is still worthwhile, they also had to protect what they had left. And Sara was all he had left.

So when he lost her, he also lost a large part of the motivation he had towards his ideals.

It also doesn't help that Keiwa constantly has his altruism go unreciprocated (like Ace fooling him into giving up the Boost Buckle) or mocked ("bleeding heart Tycoon") or twisted by those he trusted (like Kekera). Even his idealistic wish to revive all the DGP victims ended up just being used against him anyway.

So yeah it's not really surprising he really went off the deep end now.

[fruit-salad-ship]

Can I request some Witcher au Drabble my brain is in need of some brainrot after a exhausting last few weeks

Sorry to hear youve been worn down a bit, ive tried to scramble together something, but admittedly witcher AU is a fun one but also one ive not explored as much with feeling and emotion.

Hope this is better than nothing at least.

It starts in a bar, plums been sulking the whole way home as the pair ride back, now held up by the fireplace chewing through slightly old bread and some kind of cured meat with a pout on her features that Peach cannot ignore. The rain hammers on the window, the establishment is rife with drunkards, and people seem to have taken shelter here from worsening weather. “How many times do I have to say sorry?” Plum shoots her company a glance and goes back to the fire, huddled under a cloak that still feels damp. “More.” She wasn’t exactly angry, more, embarrassed, frustrated. The other patrons in the bar could feel the sheer cold energy coming from her, her menacing stare and both the woman’s gear keeping them away. No one cared much for Witcher’s, let alone ones who didn’t even fit the conventional definition for the hunters. Peach picked up a jug and leant across, refilling the little fighters glass as a small peace offering. “You-“ “Don’t.” Plum cut the broader, taller woman short immediately, and peach dared not continue, holding her hands up in defeat as she huffed back into the chair she occupied.

She was mad. This had been their first job alone, no one higher up in the ranks with them to make sure things got done, and plum was over the moon with the fact that she dealt the killing blow. The whole ride towards this grim little town was originally spent with her stomach in knots, thinking they’d fail, they’d die, all the worst outcomes, she planned and overthought every detail. All the while her partner, this egotistical, calm woman, just as new to the work as she was, simply rode, joked around, took time to rest without too much though, assuring her things would be fine. They were opposites, one worrier, and one carefree. Their hunt had been successful, they had trained twice as hard as the others in their order to make up for their gender, an issue that plagued them since being taken in by Witchers. By all accounts they should not have come through, Peach in particular had undergone a far more violent transition. But they got to the area where a Nightwraith was known to frequent. In a moral boosting act, Peach feigned injury and fell as if downed by their foe. Plum, overcome with worry pushed past fears, casting Yrden and ending the creatures suffering. She returned to peach’s side, triumphant but thinking her childhood friend dead, or close to. In that moment Peach kept the act up to mess with her a little but it allowed Plum to admit some…more personal feelings, assuming this might be the last chance to do so. The shock when her companion opened her eyes and sat up perfectly fine was so great she fell back onto the dirt a little. The realisation that she’d blurted out feelings, and Peach was in fact conscious and now AWARE of those feelings was crushing. And so now, they sat in this uncomfortable realisation.

Plum sipped, glaring over her goblet, trying not to feel completely stupid. “What I said was in the heat of the moment, and not true. I was scared, thought you’d die!” She observed, expected peach to be sarcastic, to take a dig at her, but she didn’t. There was a pause as the big woman watched the fireplace, before a short calm ‘mhm’ followed. She drank, and did not focus on the topic at hand. Somehow this made things worse. “What do you mean ‘mhm’? What’s that?” “It’s just a ‘mhm’, don’t read into it so much.” There was another pause, peach took the jug in her hand once more and stood to leave with a huff. “Where’d you think you’re going?” “Away, I can’t apologise, you’re in a foul mood, it doesn’t matter what happened, but you’re not going to let this go, so i’m better off letting you cool off. We’ll get back on the road first thing tomorrow.” And with that she skulked off out of the bar into the rain. Plum knew she’d be hanging around with her horse, not going far, so retreating to the room they’d rented that night was the best she could do to put her angry energy somewhere.

It wasn’t until the late hours that she was awoken, the sound of the door opening, familiar footsteps making their way inside. Plum didn’t move, feigned sleep, heard the form pause before sitting on a chair she knew was by the small window. Some gear was removed, probably anything water logged, the drips from it loud on the wooden floors. Peach sat quietly, a little drunk, cold, wet, and very conflicted, refusing to get into the only bed in the room. Damn tiny Inn had three rooms, only one of which were available. Go figures. So a chair would do, give the poor woman some space. Her guilt of playing a trick on her during their work was heavy, she made a mistake thinking it’d just push the smaller person to be a little braver with the fight, not…everything else. Sometimes she could stand to be a little more serious about things, her teachers always scolded her for messing around, for not being focused on the task at hand. This was a lesson well learnt. She tried to get comfortable on this hard chair, finding a position that wasn’t too bad, attempting to get some rest listening to the sheets of rain on the window. She could sleep just about anywhere, this was arguably a bit of an upgrade to rest on the road.

Plum lay, waiting, listening, realising that the woman with her was not coming to bed, she’d be worn out riding home tomorrow, perhaps… no. No way. Peach wasn’t getting a free pass on this one. She huddled up tighter under the blanket and stood her ground, didn’t give in. Not for the first 20 minutes at least, able to hear her partner slipping into a deeper sleep, peaking over. She’d leant herself on the window ledge, awkwardly crumpled to balance herself in a way that didn’t mean she’d instantly fall if she moved around, clothes still dripping wet, swords and heavier gear placed on a table close by.

“Idiot.” Slipped from her lips, this is how people got sick, though she recalled that peach never seemed to grow ill, not since she was turned, she’d grown in stature, in durability, and became something…different. None of the historic texts of their order covered whatever she was now. Whatever they did to her, it created something new, something that sometimes felt unnatural. The memories of hearing the elders discussing what happened rung out, Plum had turned over what was said a million times in her head, recalling being hidden in the shadows assuming Peach dead, they were just kids, she was so sure she’d never see her friend again. But her midnight trip to steal a snack from the kitchens got her more than she bargained for. She knew more than Peach did… Plum sat up and looked at her. Growing irritated that she was considering this, slowly feeling the floor come into contact with the bottom of her feet, standing, approaching. Two steps from her, she noticed Peach’s eyes open, reflecting back what little light was there, a red reflective sheen to them, something Plum had seen in bears and wolves, but never humans, not until this one. She reached out, touched the woman’s arm, unsurprised by how cold she was, Peach use to be so warm, but now she was always cold as the grave. “Come to bed.” There was no arguing. She got up and followed the little hand that pulled her, being stopped a few steps in, plum turning back to touch the shirt she was in, still soaked from rain.

It was lucky that the dark masked her reddening cheeks. First the impromptu confession during work, now this, pulling the clothes from her body, hanging them to dry. She could hardly see, and Peach wasn’t about to let her friend know that her vision allowed her to see more than most, picking up on the little micro movements in her companies face that showed she was going through a lot of complex feelings right now. The bigger woman said nothing, a welcome feeling of warm hands on her skin from time to time, until she was pulled once more, now unable to hide behind clothes, to a warm, far more comfortable bed. There was a quiet moment where they lay beside each other. Face to face, each on their side, huddled under admittedly scratchy sheets, but neither cared. That empty quiet lingered for a moment, Peach said nothing, she’d done enough damage for one day. Plum wanted to say so much, but there was comfort to this quiet, for the first time since she’d said too much, they reconnected in the silence, this was her best friend, someone who understood more than anyone what it was like to walk in her shoes, both having been worked to the bone their whole lives, bound together by some strange twist of fate. It was not lost on either of them how important this moment was, Peach put her hand on her companions side, pulling her in closer, tucking her up under her chin, feeling a little hand placed on her back, the weight of an arm over her side something that felt so natural. Plum could feel the scarring on this woman, gouges in the skin that told many a story, burying her head in the cold chest, able to for a moment hear a heartbeat, feint and very slow, so weak for someone so strong. It didn’t use to be like this.

One day Plum would tell her, tell her she’d found her father while digging for information during a job, a lord who saw a daughter as a waste, who got rid of her, that she had two brothers out there who got given the world, while she was thrown away. Tell her that she died, that she died a dozen times in fact, each time brought back by the very order she swore to stand by obediently as a test, an experiment. Tell her they turned her to one of them expecting her to die, and yet she did not, they were willing to lose her for the sake of scientific curiosity. That whatever happened to her was so horrifying the order swore to never perform those methods again, acknowledging their mistakes in secret amongst elders. But right now? It didn’t matter, nothing else mattered but being in the arms of someone who was always there for her. Neither had to say sorry, it was an unspoken feeling they understood.

In the dark Peach felt a kiss, one small little gesture left beside a collar bone before Plum curled up tight and drifted off. The words from their first job bounced around in her mind in the quiet, entranced by the heat of this little woman in her grasp, a woman who’d admitted feelings Peach never thought she’d receive from anyone. There was so much more to fight for now.

[academyofbrokenhearts]

Of Reality and Late Night Confessions (III)

Suna and Kaya talk, and finally reach a mutual understanding.

Author note: Probably the most OOC chapter in the entire saga, but whatever, friends. I didn't put "confessions" in the damn title for nothing. Enjoy!

AO3 link here.

When Kaya doesn't immediately react to her words, her mind is jumping to the worst possible outcome. She has somehow misinterpreted things, her words bothered him, his attraction to her is merely physical (maybe that's what he meant by not marrying her for revenge purposes?), and she is already thinking on how to apologise, how to take it all back.

Yet he is still holding her, his body completely lacking any tension, so she opens her eyes, and sees it.

He's smiling.

"I was hoping I would hear this from you someday," he says. "I just didn't expect it to happen so soon."

"So then... I did not get it wrong?" she asks, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "You like me?"

"Oh man," Kaya says, hiding his face in her shoulder. "I really thought it would be obvious by now. Are you trying to tell me that this entire time, you worried about my feelings on top of yours?"

When Suna does not answer (because really, it's unsettling how he can read her so well), he raises his head and looks at her again, in utter surprise:

"Oh, you did. I cannot believe it."

"It's really unfair," she mumbles, looking away, embarrassment burning her cheeks. "How come my brain is like an open book to you, and most of the time I can't get you at all?"

"Well," he says, and his voice is gentle. "Comes with practice. Besides, it's not like I am not prone to errors."

Not with her, not normally, Suna thinks. Most of the time, he can understand her instinctively, and she never feels the need to explain her thoughts to him in detail. But she knows she is not going to be able to feel secure just assuming and deducting things, the way he does. That's not how she works. She tends to worry and overthink to the point of anxiety, and what good would that be?

"Kaya," she speaks, turning her head towards him. "If I ask you some questions, will you answer them? I really need to have a proper talk with you. Actually, that was my intention, before..."

"Before you got overwhelmed by my good looks, and had your way with me," he says, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Shut up, I'm serious."

"I know, Suna, I was just messing around. Sure, of course we can talk. But first, do you mind if I take another shower? You can join me too if you want."

"Sure thing," she answers, like it's something they did thousand of times before, and she doesn't even blush when saying it.

That finally shuts him up.

*

He does not touch her in any way in the shower, except when he helps her wash her back. She thanks him with a quick peck on the cheek, and he groans.

"Don't get too close," he says, turning off the water, and hopping out of the shower. "I'm a bit tired, but I'm not too tired for that, and before you know it, there goes the talk we're supposed to have."

She rolls her eyes, but follows suit, mumbling a quick thanks when he finishes wiping off and hands her the towel. By the time she also dries off and puts on her panties, he is already half dressed, and she pauses for a moment, trying to remember where she left her actual clothes.

"Here," he then says with a smirk, handing her his t-shirt. "Since you like it so much, keep wearing it."

"Have you always been this annoying, or is this a recent development?" she asks, but without actual malice, as she's getting dressed.

"I'm sorry, were you saying something? I was looking at your legs and got distracted. Was it important?"

"Okay, definitely a recent development," she comments, opening the door and stepping into the room. "You're prettier when you shut up, by the way."

"Oh, so we're fully back in our flirting era," he replies, laughing, and she smiles at him in turn, before climbing into bed. He follows suit, putting his head in her lap when she gestures towards him to come closer, and they sit in comfortable silence for a while, her playing with his hair, him caressing her bare legs.

"Just promise me you will be answering me openly and honestly," she says, eventually. "I know you said it's not easy for you to talk, to open up, but there is something I need to know, for my own peace of mind."

"Ask away."

"Since when did you like me?"

There is a small pause, then he responds, and she can't really see his expression, but she can guess it from the softness in his voice:

"Like? I liked you in Marmaris. Hell, I think I actually liked you from the moment you opened that door and stood in front of me for the first time, and judged my tattoos, my clothes, and my entire existence in general. But now that I got to know you better, I think I can safely say that this is more than just me liking you. You heard me loud and clear earlier, I wasn't saying what I said just because I was caught up in the moment or anything."

"Wait a second," Suna says. "Does that mean you liked me when you proposed to me the second time? You said nothing of the sort back then."

"Yeah, because you would have hit me with a chair."

"I wouldn't have done such a thing," she protests, but when he sits upright, raising an eyebrow at her, she sighs in defeat. "Okay, maybe I wouldn't have hit you with a chair, as you put it, but I would have probably told you to get out and never speak to me again."

"Which is why I did not say it. I figured, well, I was the one at fault, I wanted to make amends, but it was very important for me to get you to forgive me and accept me again. I thought... oh hell, whatever, it's confession time, isn't it? I thought that maybe you would realise I wasn't that bad, and I could get you to truly like me."

He looks so vulnerable and boyish, that she can't help but taking him into her arms, and he hugs her in return, holding her tight.

"I was very hurt back then," she whispers. "After I heard you talking to your mother. Very, very hurt. But after what you told me last night... I can't even begin to fathom how hard it must have been for you. And I meant it, you know? Last night, when I told you I will be here for you. I'll do it. I'll help you take care of your mother. I'll be here to listen when everything becomes too much. You just need to say the word."

"Damn," he says, almost choking on his words. "I never thought someone would say that to me ever. Never even dreamed of it."

She manages to catch a glimpse of his face, enough to see the tears in his eyes, right before he kisses her. It's long, and sweet, and when their lips finally part, she gently wipes his wet cheeks, and in spite of his still obvious emotion, he does manage to smile.

That night, they go to sleep holding each other tight, and all nightmares are forgotten.

[1358456]

Pokemon Yellow "Free to Play" Run Part 2

Time to finish it. I was going to grind some levels, but I lost patience almost immediately. What's the worst that could happen?!

... Uh oh.

Okay. Cheese time. Operation: Deplete Thunder PP!

... Or the Jolteon could just use Thunderwave once, and then miss Thunder 3 times in a row and die to Hydro Pump. That works too! I'll take it!

This is why you NEVER rely on acc 70 moves. Always take Thunderbolt over Thunder (unless in Drizzle team). Expected value = probability * outcome, so Thunderbolt has value of 95 (acc 100 * power 95), 90 nowadays. While Thunder has 84 (acc 70 * power 120), 77 nowadays. So you can expect Thunderbolt to deal more damage on average than Thunder!

Okay. Now that I beat that scrub totally fairly and without relying on luck, I need to start using glitches to take on my next opponents. Give me 400 Rare Candies!

... This guy isn't necessary, but... for fun. Note, this thing's Pokedex number is 80. And when I slap on a Rare Candy...

It becomes TM55 or Q, as seen here, with Pokedex number 121.

Because of that, the game thinks I caught Slowbro, Dex number 80, even though I never did.

And same for Starmie, number 121.

Now, what can I do with Q? ... Well, if you remember my Exploration Run...

I can create little abominations like this. Behold, a Pikachu shaped Squirtle!

See? It's even the same color as Squirtle. But it is indeed Pikachu, so... let's give it its name back.

The renowned Name Rater has given the Pikachu the name Pikachu. Marvelous.

Hey, it's happy that it got its name back! Aww.

Get the f*ck out of here. I don't need this thing. Let this li'l abomination run free in the wild! A Pikachu shaped Squirtle? It won't fit in with Pikachus or Squirtles!

Okay. My Jolteon has reached Special stat 226, so I can use it with a wild Ditto for the Ditto trick. But I also need to lower the Atk stat with Growl, which for glitch-spawned Pokemon would lower their level (default level 7, +/- 1 for each level Atk was raised or lowered, max 13 min 1), but for glitch-spawned trainers, it would change their team sets. So if I did it right, and assuming the Ditto that copied my Jolteon doesn't annihilate my critically-weak-to-Jolteon team...

Here we go again. Here's my revenge for giving me a damn Pikachu!

So unlike last time, when this guy had a level 69 Charizard, he has a Venusaur. I believe these are RGB teams, which depend on what starter you picked. Well, assuming the idea wasn't scrapped before the game released.

See? Told you Jolteon annihilates all three Kanto starters in Generation I.

That's right, you damn shmuck.

... Now, for the final boss. Need Special 246, and... spam Rare Candies on all my stuff to level 100 after the Ditto trick. And once all the preparations are complete, an old lady is going to crawl out of the ground and...

... Here we go!

Level 205! Ha, I can take you-

Okay, Charizard was one-shotted by a Tri Attack. Uh oh.

But Jolteon to the rescue. ... Dodrio outruns Jolteon but fortunately, the AI is dumb and it used Agility before swapping back and forth with a Seel, and they both died to multiple Thunderbolts.

... The li'l abomination is back for vengeance! It wants blood!

But it sucks way too much ass! Get the f*ck out of here!

... I am losing Pokemon too. Growlithe's Takedown killed itself and Jolteon, and the opposing Seadra one-shotted Hitmonlee, that worthless f*ck. And one-shotted Aerodactyl, which has proven to be very useless in Generation I. Omastar barely killed Seadra, and got downed by the glitch Pokemon.

We're both down to our last Pokemon here. I have one Revive that I'm going to use on Jolteon.

But I didn't need it! Lapras has enough bulk to withstand the glitch moves. GG!

Indeed. But now the final boss is down. It was uncomfortably close. ... I miss Mew.

... And next time I do a no-glitch Yellow version run, I am absolutely going to throw the first two fights so I don't face Jolteon again.

[annaphoenix1994]

Masterlist:

When All is Lost

Mia and Big John searched the home of the abandoned Allen house with haste. To her surprise, Ella was not there. Traces were, but her little girl wasn't. She moved the pillow and blanket on the floor to reveal a bloodstain as she stood in the entryway of the house, her heart dropping as he assumed the worst. "That's not hers," Big John assured his little sister. "Happened a year ago -- that Cunningham boy was babysitting and the kid fell from the banister." 

"Jesus." 

"LJ said it was an accident when he got called to the site, although nobody wanted to think it was." 

"I can understand why. People want to put the blame on somebody," Mia shook her head. "You know, Michael told me that Corey was his son -- the one that I caught in the house." 

"I'd believe it." 

"W-Why?" 

"His mom was a patient at Smith's Grove. Crazy as hell to say the least. The boy looks just like him. You know as well as I do that you thought the same thing when you saw him." 

She did. Suspected it, even, but couldn't wrap her head around the fact. Michael was so emotionally and physically unavailable when she started seeing him as her patient and couldn't think of how a scenario for him appeared where conceiving a child was the topic. 

The siblings shared a look of dread, "Why did he send us here if Ella isn't even here?" She asked. 

"Maybe shewashere..." 

Mia looked down at her phone - a text message from an unsaved number. 

'327 Mill's End Road. Ella is here. She and Michael are fighting'

"We need to go!" 

*

Michael thrashed over the kitchen island as he tried to free himself. The blades ripped his hands as he pulled them. Laurie used the momentum of her body to tip the refrigerator and thrust it forward, the heavy appliance crashing onto Michael's legs, locking him in place. Laurie moved back the drawer and pulled outthatknife - the same knife Allyson had used in her fight with Michael, the same one Laurie used to chop up fruit for her smoothies.

She grabbed the handle with both hands and raised it over her head as she straddled him, her face trembling with fury as she finally had him withered to her touch. It was all finally happening - she had him. Laurie's hands clenched the handle, securing it in her grip. And then she brought it down like a piledriver. Michael's rib fractured as the blade speared his body. He twisted unnaturally, and air hissed awfully from his punctured lung as Laurie slowly drew the knife from his chest, making him feel every single moment of the pain.

She took a deep breath, the redemption triumph tune in her head musing out the cries of Ella from the pantry. She watched the entire thing, unaware that the man behind the mask was her father. She thought the masked man was scary, but the old woman that had been holding her against her will was scarier. 

She removed the knife from Michael's torso, bringing it up to her face to look at the blood,hisblood, that coated the stainless steel. She needed to know he was just a real man, but she also needed to besurethat it was Michael she was about to kill. "I've run from you. I've chased you. I've tried to contain you, tried to even forgive you," She said to him, holding the knife to his throat, pressing the blade against his carotid artery. "I thought maybe you were the boogeyman. But no. You're just a man who's about to stop breathing." She said, her other hand curling under the edge of the mask, preparing to rip it from his head - a trophy for her successful hunt. 

CLICK!

Laurie stopped immediately, knowing that whatever force she had was no match to one of a gun. 

Corey. 

He spit the remaining blood from his mouth, aiming his gun, Laurie's gun, at her - right between the eyes. "Drop it." He demanded. 

She did as she was told, facing her palms toward him. "I sat and dwelled on this from the beginning," He began, stepping closer to her. "A part of me didn't want to do it because I was afraid of the outcome. Now, that other part of me is glad that I did because I wouldn't have gotten the answers I knew I needed." 

"Yeah? And what answer is that?" 

"You already know." 

She shook her head, "I don't." 

"Step away from my father and let him go." 

Laurie was astonished. Stricken, even.Father?"There's two of you?" She scoffed. 

"About to be just one if I don't get answers of my own," Mia demanded as she joined in on the standoff, her gun pointing at Corey's head. He softened for her, knowing she had him at her grasp. "And you - you better start talking and tell me where my daughter is before I don't think twice is blowing a hole through you." She sneered at Laurie. 

Laurie pointed at the walk-in hesitantly, knowing her fate was sure to follow after Mia found Ella. She huffed, frowning down at Michael as he was watching her, his head straining to look over his torso as he watched Mia move from one end of the room to the other, opening the door to the walk-in, seeing her daughter bound by her wrists and ankles as well as a fabric cloth stuffing her mouth. She broke out in tears while a strike of anger filled Michael's chest. He was going to be sure he killed Laurie slowly, making her regret even the thought of taking Ella from him.

But he had to free himself first. He knew he couldn't jerk his hands from the knives unless he wanted them ripped in half. 

"You better pray she's okay." Mia warned as she dropped to her knees, holding Ella against her chest as she used the nearby knife on the counter to cut the ties free and removed the cloth from her mouth. She cried as the image was not only foul, but it reminded her of how she was bound when she was taken into Laurie's custody just four years prior. "Baby? Baby? Mommy's here, okay," She cried, kissing the top of her head. "Mommy's here." She then pointed towards Big John. "Go to uncle John, okay? We're going to take you home." 

Ella nodded as Mia stood to her feet, ensuring Ella could walk freely before telling Corey to move out of Ella's way. "You go with him." She said to Corey. 

He knew she was possibly saving him for Michael's grasp. 

And he was terrified at the thought. 

She then aimed the gun back at Laurie, "Give me your phone. Now." 

"I-I don't have it." 

Why are the cops taking such a long time?!

She then pulled out her own phone, dialing the three-digit number herself. 

"9-1-1."

"I just heard shots coming from a house. 327 Mill's Brook Road. I think she has an intruder." 

"Are you a resident, ma'am?" 

"No." She said softly before hanging up, tucking her phone back into her pocket. 

"You can't be serious." Laurie scoffed. 

"Dead fucking serious." She replied, curling her index finger around the trigger before squeezing it, the bullet retreating from the chamber. Mia had no set aim on her, but she just wanted the satisfaction of shooting Laurie herself. 

She dropped to the floor, whimpering in pain as it was only Michael and Mia left in the house. She cried, darting to the island and placing her hands on his chest. She lifted the mask from his head, kissing his lips before continuing to examine his torso for any hidden wounds, gasping as she saw the stab wound in his chest. He looked at her with his dark eyes, holding no ounce of pain as she knew he was hurting, but he was The Shape - and The Shape felt no pain. 

She then delicately traced her fingers on his hands, gasping at how the blades penetrated his skin so effortlessly. "Just pull them out," He groaned, frowning at the heartbreak in her eyes. "Just pull it out." 

"I-I can't, Michael," She cried. "I don't want to hurt you even more." 

"You just shot someone, Mia," He reminded. "It won't hurt you to pull these from my hands. Just do it." 

She sighed, looking at the differences between the two knives - one was a chef's knife about eight inches in length with a smooth edge while the other was a standard duty knife with jagged teeth. And it was going to hurt. She chose to remove the chef's knife first as she hoped the smooth edge would come easily out of his hand. She mentally counted to three before using forced momentum to pull the knife from his hand. He did nothing out of a reaction and it shocked her. She then sat the knife aside to prepare to remove the other knife when Michael sat up in a fluid-like motion. 

She then moved to the refrigerator, pressing her back against it to push it away from Michael's leg, but it was too heavy. She groaned in frustration before feeling a pair of hands help her with the move. Corey. 

"Let me help you." He grunted, pivoting the fridge to where it was now standing upright. He was shocked as he saw Michael's true face, the men locking eyes in primal instinct. 

He's just a man, Corey thought.Just a normal-looking man. 

He remembered seeing him at the diner days prior, but now confirming his suspicion as true, he knew he was looking at the real boogeyman - not the one they spoke of in folklore. 

With no hesitation, Michael used his free hand to jerk the other knife from his other hand, sliding from the island to securely stand on his own two feet. He towered over Corey, but Corey didn't budge. Mia then moved between them, her palm on their chests, "This isn't the time and you know it," She pointed at Michael before peering down at Laurie, who was still breathing. "I saved the best for last, Michael. You'll know where to find me." She said to him before ushering Corey from the room, leaving only Michael and Laurie. 

He watched her leave before turning to grasp at his mask that lay on the countertop, slipping it over his head and returning to the entity he grew to love so much. He then grabbed the handle of the chef's knife as he walked slowly, oh so slowly, to Laurie's body. The bullet that Mia had shot her with only hit her shoulder, weakening her and leaving her in a stunned mess, but she was still alive. She was sure to let Michael finish this. 

He reached down, grabbing the nape of her skull by her hair and forcing her to her feet. She panted, gasping for air like a fish out of the water before Michael jerked down with enough force to hear a satisfyingcrack!, but she was still breathing and moving. He had to give it to her - he respected her for her lack of surrender, but it was no match for him. 

He then shoved her face into the nearby China cabinet, glass rupturing and breaking off into the weathered skin of her face. She desperately attempted to brace against the impact with her hands, but it was no use. Her arms went limp as he shoved her over the island where he was once pinned, holding her down by his left hand on her shoulder blade as the other raised above his head as the knife glistened in the moonlight. He hesitated for one second before bringing the knife down in one solid motion, the blade piercing between her shoulder blades. She grunted one last time as Michael loosened his grip on her, letting her fall to the floor to bathe in her own blood after removing the knife, his new favorite, from her body. 

She forced herself to look up at him one last time, watching him kneel down on the floor to get the knitting needle she had stabbed him with all those years ago and tried to repeat that night. She watched him hazily as he twirled the needle between his fingers. She couldn't move her head nor feel the rest of her body. The only thing she could do was watch.Just do it. 

She closed her eyes as the needle penetrated her neck right in her jugular. Michael kept it there, pinning her to the floor to leave for someone to peel her off from it. 

Halloween was over. 

Halloween has ended for Laurie Strode. 

[tokiro07]

Wow...I'm so blown away by the shocking turn of events in this manga that totally wasn't spoiled for me...I'm practically leaping into the air with excitement over this reveal that I definitely didn't already know was going to happen...

Actually, on the subject of spoilers, I do want to note that I don't think they're unilaterally a bad thing - I've had plot twists spoiled for me going into a piece of media that actually made me more interested, that motivated me to start in the first place

But I think the core difference there is a matter of timing. Being told "there's this cool twist, you should give it a try" is massively different from saying "oh boy! I wonder what happens next~" only for some jackass to come up and say "oh, this happens" and deflate the tension

Cus that's what it is, really: the resolution of tension. If I'm told, without context or prior expectation, that a series has a major character death, then I have no idea when or how it's going to happen. I'm going to experience the series and then meet that character and say "oh no, this is the one who dies!" and every time they show up I'm going to think "is this it? Is this when they die?" The tension of thinking that the bomb under the table might go off now is it's own kind of enjoyable experience

But if I'm experiencing it blind and someone looks over my shoulder to say "oh, cool, you're at the part where they die," then you might as well have just replaced the bomb under the table with an untied balloon. There'll still be a noise, sure, and the exact timing may still allow for something of a surprise, but the impact is drastically reduced

The natural progression of experiencing a story as it was intended, with information being revealed by the author at carefully measured intervals is of course the purest way to feel the proper tension, but knowing the outcome far enough in advance allows you to build your own tension in your mind. This is a perfectly valid way to enjoy media, but having someone swoop in to cut the tension at the worst possible moment is just a buzzkill at best and an irremovable stain on the experience with the work itself at worst

Put another way, the former alters how you engage with the work as a whole while the latter alters how you engage with the individual moment in question. If your entire perspective on the story is shifted before you even start, it's just how you're interpreting the story in the first place, but if your perspective and expectations are shifted in media res, the impact of the moment is lost, and the aftermath is permanently weakened

That's why something like One Piece isn't super closely guarded by its fandom once something is made public; the big reveals don't mean much without their immediate context. Gear 5th is just a Super Saiyan transformation to an outsider, but the animation on the fight scenes is cool enough to justify giving it a try. It was only for week-to-week readers that it was really an issue because someone undoubtedly posted a chapter summary about it ahead of time (I managed to avoid it) and revealed all of the details in a generic list rather than allowing readers to absorb them at the pace Oda intended

You can be open with the events of a story, but there's a time and place for it. At the very least, folks should wait until it can be fairly assumed that most people who want to know something already do, and anyone who will be interested by knowing will come across it on their own later

[kirapen]

Confession Preparation

Summary: Not all confessions go the way you plan

Characters: Original Female Character, Silver (Twisted Wonderland)

Tags: Love Confessions, Unplanned Confessions, Not Beta Read

A/N: Based on the song "I'm going to confess to you on Valentine's Day" by kawaiivocalo, particularly the verse that became a meme sometime last year (?)

Charlotte wasn't a fan of club activities ending earlier than usual, but one has very little room for complaints when their club leader is pulled away for official Housewarden duties. The route to Ramshackle was empty this time of day, most students were either at clubs or back in their dorm. The peace and quiet was nice, nothing to disrupt Charlotte's wandering thoughts.

So of course the sound of footsteps behind her turned her blood cold and sent shivers down her spine. Reflexes took over and Charlotte quickened her pace, hopefully discreetly enough to not give away her fear to whoever was behind her.

“Prefect!” That was a voice she knew. Charlotte turned around to see Silver standing before her. Charlotte liked Silver. Unlike a majority of her classmates, he was nice to her without expecting anything in return. Now she felt bad about assuming the worst, but she's learned that you can never expect the best outcome in every situation.

“Do you need anything, Silver?” Charlotte clasped her hands behind her back and rolled back and forth on her feet. Was she nervous? A little bit. Despite Silver being one of the nicer people in Night Raven Collage, he still struck an imposing figure. Always standing tall and upright with a steep gaze that made his unusually colored eyes as sharp as steel. The fact that he wasn’t very expressive also didn’t help. The only time he seemed to be at ease was when he was around his family, or during one of his many sleeping spells. Charlotte always found him hard to read, which wasn’t an unusual opinion to have for anyone outside of his immediate circle.

And oh boy, did Charlotte wish she was part of that circle. Maybe then her heart wouldn’t race and the butterflies in her stomach wouldn’t flutter when their eyes met.

“I’m going to confess to you on Valentine's Day.” Silver stepped a little closer, the respectable distance that was kept between them felt suffocating and overwhelming “Would you be able to meet me after school that day by the well in the courtyard?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Charlotte wasn't happy about how much her voice had cracked during that sentence alone. Her face was feeling awfully hot, no doubt it was flushed a pretty pink from embarrassment.

“Your face is bright red, are you feeling alright? You’re not sick are you?” Silver moved to place the back of his hand against Charlotte's forehead, but she quickly stepped out the way. She wasn't sure she could handle any contact at the moment. She sure did feel sick. Her stomach felt like it wanted to empty itself from how nervous she was, and she felt shivers running down her entire body akin to whenever she was running a fever.

“No, it’s just…” Charlotte’s voice shrunk to a whisper. She looked away, refusing to meet Silver's eyes “you basically already confessed.”

“Oh." His face slowly began to flush as the realization of what he said began to settle in. Charlotte always knew the boy was dense, but even this seemed out of character for him "Then please, forget I said anything.”

And like nothing had even happened, Silver turned and made his way towards Main Street. Charlotte watched as his pace quickly grew from a respectable walking speed to a full on sprint back to Diasomnia. Perhaps the embarrassment of the situation had caught up to him. Or, perhaps he was eager to get back to the privacy of his dorm room to finish the final preparations for his supposed Valentine’s Day Confession.

After a moment to fully process what had just happened, Charlotte sank to her knees, not caring about the sting of her skin meeting the concrete when she fell. She promptly hid her face in her hands, the blush on her face only getting deeper as she kept replaying what Silver had said in her head.

A confession.

He told her he was planning to give her a love confession on Valentine’s Day.

Oh Silver, you really would be the death of her.

[goremet-chef]

trying to control my emotions is so difficult man, like i can be honest with myself and lay out the whole truth, but that little voice inside me will always be like "okay, but what if we dont know the whole truth? what if something happened we dont know about and our fear is completely warranted?"

its sad because its not like.. the 'little voice' isnt an alter or something, its just ME. i bring myself so much misery, i feel so ashamed. i cant believe im our host. i bring all of us down, and im not even being dramatic or anything, i genuinely do. im selfish, and my method of coping with reality is to LEAVE it, when someone else fronts im biting my lip waiting to crawl back into front and take me out of here. i stop our social alters from even ATTEMPTING to be social because im too scared of the consequences (even if its just part of life, it rips my soul apart to be rejected, im so tired of being seen as weird)

its honestly kind of impressive, but despite all this fear that ties me down to the floor, i cant i CAN NOT ask if somethings wrong

i cant do it, because thats admitting defeat. thats me saying 'yeah ill be honest im sure nothing has happened on your end, but ive been drowning myself in anxiety and i need validation that my fear is for nothing like how you probably think it is'

i cant keep doing that. i hate being such a piece of work!!!! its never simple with me, everythings always fine until it literally isnt. ive convinced myself my friends, my closest bestest best besties, ALL hate me and ive been so depressed only for them to act completely normal and then i realize oh actually they dont and i was sad for nothing :] okay!

like. i just.

the last time i was ever open about how i was feeling, was when i was in contact with my groomer. i loved him i think, and i felt like i should be open with him, because he was my FP and the amount of crying i did every day was so pathetic

that was when i learned i had bpd and thats why i acted the way i did, and so i tried to be more open about it because i heard that i should and it would be good for my relationships, but all it did was make him tired with me, tired that i was constantly scared and asking if he still liked me

that was a bad time for me, i cant ignore that. being in constant contact with him was basically just giving me trauma every single day. my system was SO active trying to manage the stress, it was bad. i cant just blame myself for how i was acting, because it was a terrible horrible situation that i dont wish on anyone else, but man i wish i did things different

but like?? its like no matter the option i pick, its still the same!!! different outcome but shitty nonetheless

do i open up and tell the people i love that oh actually im really scared and im constantly afraid you dont love me anymore? or do i just. sit with the pain.

if i tell them, best case they tell me 'no dom, we still love you' and thats that, worst case they get annoyed with me, they see me as too much to handle, they pity me because something is clearly wrong with me

if i dont, then i do exactly what i do now, which is just wallowing in self hate and loneliness for 3 whole days, waiting for something thats not gonna happen because i havent fucking COMMUNICATED that i want it

i think technically, being open is the way to go. if i hadnt been stuck in such a shitty situation with a person like BRIAN then i wouldve probably seen better outcome. im open that i have BPD, so people should be aware what theyre getting into. if they stay despite knowing, they care about me, i know this is true. a lot of people book it once they hear you have any sort of cluster-b personality disorder because they immediately assume yr some kind of abuser, so this already is a good thing that i have people open enough to not immediately classify me as one and run

i just get scared like. what if i ask if somethings wrong and something IS wrong?? what if its my fault? id be so ashamed in myself. i dont have enough experience in human interaction to know how to fully like. handle that situation, the unknown outcome is what scares me the most