#I could've been an English major

[dyanasaur]

Chat, I'm writing my English essay on:

Batman & his 8? children;

the fact that 5 out of 8? which were Robin at some point;

oh fugue ig we got a new Robin???;

Crikey mate, movie Batman needs a Robin. GiVE THE WET CAT MAN A CHILD TO SASS AT HIM. Batsy's not a gym bro who can actually get shit done on his own. Alfred is who keeps him alive and his children give him the will to live.

[waterfall-ambience]

do you think captain luna should try sending damien to new zealand

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 6, Fear and despair

Masterlist Word count: 2 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Ya'll ready to cry?! Me neither... Also, for anyone wondering why I don't English so good sometimes. I am Dutch and nothing is proofread <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut. No graphic content. Mention of abuse.

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'You're not quite here with me.' You look up from the cup of tea you had been absentmindedly stirring since it was put in front of you. He's right. He's always right. Well... Most times. 

Your mind has been a mess. There's the whole Sylus thing, yes, that's something that takes up way too much space in your head. You keep thinking back to last Saturday, sitting on the couch with him watching the rise and fall of sexual tension. Seeing him try so hard to do small talk while pretending he wasn't looking at your lips and body like a man starved. He had kissed your forehead when he left and you leaned into it. Even thinking about it gives you butterflies. 

But there's another thing on your mind. A much more menial thing. Something much easier to discuss with Zayne. 

'How come I never heard you shower when you lived next door?' Zayne tilts his head, looking at you a little confused. 

'That's what you've been stuck on?' You reluctantly nod. It's stupid, so damn stupid, but Zayne still answers. 'When I moved out, Rafayel was talking about a new ventilation system. Maybe it connects to yours?' 

'That makes a lot of sense actually,' you groan, leaning back in your chair defeated. 'I can't believe I've been so busy thinking about that.' 

'You're an interior architect; shouldn't it be logical to you?' He's got a point and a very good one at that. You also could've just asked Rafayel, but no. You'd like to avoid that man as much as possible. He always tries to get you to do work for free, without even offering to lower you rent for a month or something. No way. 

You look around the coffee shop. This is you and Zayne's regular spot. The place is very big and open, but sound doesn't bounce around nor echo. There's tons of natural light and very kind yellow lights when the sun goes down. The furniture is a mix and match of secondhand stuff that's surprisingly pleasing to the eye and most chairs are comfortable. Then again, the chairs that aren't comfortable to you could be very comfortable to someone else. There are tons of plants scattered around, lots of cut vintage decor like old Matchbox cars and very old adverts on metal plates. On the floor are a few rugs that have almost worn into the floor and have major damage where people often walk. Almost looks like the rugs have crop circles. 

It might not be for everyone, even Zayne used to be a little uncomfortable here at first, but it's grown on both of you. The employees are kind and helpful, the music is always good and never too loud. It's a good atmosphere. 

'Anyway, how is the new neighbor?' Your cheek flush almost right away when you meet Zayne's eyes. 'What is it? Are you alright?' He leans over the table to touch your forehead, worried you might be sick. 

'I'm fine, I'm fine. His name is Sylus and he's hot- A LOT, he's a lot.' Zayne chuckles at your antics while you feel your ears burning. Not exactly the information you wanted to share with Zayne. Truly, it doesn't matter all that much in the end. He's like a brother to you and he knows nearly everything about your life. A fact that you wish was still true the other way around as well but he's been too busy to tell you everything. And now that you've dropped the "Sylus is hot" bomb, he's not letting it go until you tell him everything. 

For a professional, cold doctor he's surprisingly desperate for gossip. 

'I'm sure he's a lot,' he says with a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips, 'you were worried he might be loud. Is that the case?' 

'A bit. He's awake deep into the night, so sometimes I hear him moving around in his apartment or playing music late at night. It's nothing too bad though. Though Tara seems a bit cautious around him. Apparently, he's friends with her boyfriend.' A slight frown appears on Zayne's face. If you hadn't known him as long as you have, you wouldn't have noticed. But you do know him. 'What's that look for?' 

'Tara is dating that Kieran boy, right?' You nod and he tries to soften his face. 'Hm, I don't know them very well. It's probably not who I'm thinking of.' 

'Who are you thinking of?' And suddenly he looks real serious. The temperature inside is suddenly a few degrees lower and the bubble we were in feels like a soundproof chamber. 'Zayne, who are you think of?' 

'I wish I could tell you, but patient confidentiality forbids me.'  

“Patient confidentiality? What the hell? Is this even about Sylus?” 

Zayne reaches out for my hand on the table and gently takes it in his. 'Don't worry about it too much. I'm not even sure if it's the same guy.' 

'You're right,' you say, trying to smile as wide as you can while pushing the racing thoughts in your mind down. 

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"She has a boyfriend? Shit." Sylus tries to quicken his pace while he walks past the coffee shop before you see him, but he's too slow. You spot him and smile at him. A big smile, one that almost makes his cheeks hurt from looking at it. 

Wait... He's smiling back? 

No matter, he keeps walking. But then he catches the slightest glimpse of the man sitting with her and his blood runs cold. It's like a distant memory, or more like a distant nightmare. He can only hope and pray and doctor Zayne hasn't seen him. 

It's been years, but Sylus still fears the doctor might remember him. It wouldn't be too bad, the man saved his life, but he doesn't want you knowing. Not yet at least. What if he asked how his recovery is going? What if he asked if his scars healed okay? What if he asked if his situation has changed? How would he answer those questions and not revert back to that scared little boy she made him. 

Because all that still feels so raw, even though it's years ago. He should've been fine by now, at least that's what he thinks. Time heals all wounds, right? Three years should be enough. More than enough. 

That being said, his first doxing was her. She put his address out there as a last-ditch attempt to get him to "commit" to her. To make him obey like a fucking dog. 

He isn't even sure how all of it happened back then, but it did. Maybe it was just young love. Yeah, young love at 24. No, he was just naïve and stupid. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” 

What he does know is that he is nearly running home. He's stuck in his own head, tears prickling in his eyes. How does this keep happening at any mention, thought, or glimpse of her? It's not normal. He should be okay. 

It feels like he's picking up a fever as he unlocks the door to his apartment. He faintly hears the sound of his name but his chest is getting tight and he has to get inside. Why does this affect him so fucking much? 

And suddenly he recognizes what is going on. He's having a panic attack. 

He hasn't had a panic attack in the last two years. He's been fine, he should still be fine. Is it because he saw doctor Zayne again? Because he is with you? Because all he can think of when seeing doctor Zayne's face is how much pain he was in and how scared he was? 

“This is not fucking normal. Breathe Sylus, breathe. You know how to breathe. You've been doing it all your fucking life. Just stop panicking!” 

The voice in his head is no help. He slumps against the back of the couch in the middle of his living room, not able to make it to the bathroom to take a cold shower. Cold showers usually shock him out of it. His breathing stays rapid, his eyes looking for anything in reach that can help him but there are dark spots all over his vision. 

He closes his eyes for just a moment. Just a little bit. A second, no more. He wakes up with a few slaps to his cheek. His head feels cold against the wooden floor of his apartment. When did he fall over? 

'Sylus? Sylus? Look at me.' It's you. Your voice is desperate, scared, as you grab his shoulders and try to pull him upright again. He tries to help you, moving ever so slightly to a sitting position. Your hand raises up to his forehead, brushing the hair sticking to his sweaty skin away. 'Are you alright?' 

'Always with you around,' Sylus says, trying to look and sound like a womanizer, but failing miserably. To you, he just looks a bit loopy. His breathing is still ragged and strange. 

'Cute,' you note with a frown, 'now breathe with me.' You grab his hand and press it against your chest, just underneath your collarbone. 'Ready?' He nods. 'Breathe in.' He feels your chest rise slowly as you breathe in with him, your heard thumping under his hand in a steady, comforting rhythm.  

Slowly, the whole world disappears. His eyes are laser focused on yours, ears zeroed in on the sound of your voice and your breathing. To him, you look like an angel. His guardian angel. 

'Breathe out.' 

Your chest falls, he breathes out. It feels like seconds have passed but by the time you let go of his hand, the sun is setting. He last checked his phone around 16:30 before he saw you at the coffee shop, so that means it's close to six, it being wintertime. 

Finally lucid again, his heartbeat slowed, his breathing steady, he asks: 'Why did you follow me?' 

The coldness of his questions shocks you and you answer: 'I felt like you needed someone to be there for you.' 

He lets out a cold laugh, something that sounds close to disbelief but also much much closer to insecurity. A sound you hadn't expected coming from his mouth. He knows you think he's hot, he knows you are attracted to him, but he does not know you. He does not know about your youth, your struggle with panic attacks, your loneliness. But he doesn't need to know for you to be able to help him. 

If only he'd believe that you only want to help. 

'How do you know doctor Zayne?' There's something possessive in his tone, something you wouldn't have expected right now. 

'He used to live here before you. We're friends.' He stays quiet for a while, staring at you but not quite. More like he's looking through you, disassociating. 'I'm gonna get you a glass of water.' You move to your feet, but he grabs your wrist and holds you where you are. He's suddenly back, eyes watching you with immense focus. 

'Do you pity me?' The words sound like an accusation, like he's admitting he doesn't like what happened and that you "had" to see it. So much grief in those few words, a grief that goes much deeper than you can imagine. 

'Pity you?' 

He lets go of your wrist with an angry expression. He quickly gets up, refusing to look at you any longer. 'Never mind. I think it'd be better if you leave.' 

'What? Sylus-' You try to reach out for him, but when he looks back at you there's venom in his eyes. Your hand hangs in the air, halfway reaching towards his forearm. And then you drop it. 'Okay, if that's what you want.' 

He walks you to the door, his chest full of regret, embarrassment, shame. He was doing so damn well and now you've seen him like that. Like a shell, something defective, a bird with a broken wing. In the doorway you turn back to him so that he can't close the door on you. All he can see in your eyes in compassion, adoration and, strangely enough, love. 

'For what it's worth, I don't pity you. My opinions and feelings about you haven't changed,' you hesitate for a second and look down at the ground, 'and I hope you'll still ask me out. I do really want to get to know you. All of you.' 

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[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Hello, can you write something about reader x jealous Eddie? I love this trope.

Maybe they're close friends and Eddie still didn't talk to her about his feelings but one day someone new appears in her surrounding. Maybe he's into punk subculture and Eddie knows he might be her type 😏

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! I hope you like it <3

Eddie has been your best friend for years now, it's always been the two of you stuck to each other's hips like glue. Everyone around you two knew of the feelings you had for each other. Everyone but the two of you, obviously, and it is killing everyone! Hell Wayne has a bet going with one of the neighbors about when the two of you will finally get together. It better be soon or he will lose twenty bucks.

Eddie keeps a close eye on you at school. He doesn't want anything to happen to you, especially when he could've been there to help. Because of this habit of his, he noticed that there was a new guy who was swarming around you. At first he didn't think anything of it, just thought maybe it was a lab partner who needed to work with you on a project. But when the guy doesn't leave your side the entire day, he knew something was going on and he did not like that.

As he sat at lunch he glared at the new boy from across the room. Thanks to Gareth he learned that his name was Alex. And thanks to Dustin he learned that Alex is in a band, the band you went to go see last weekend when Eddie had to cancel plans you two had. He was kicking himself for canceling those damn plans. His glare drifted back to Dustin and he clenched his jaw before saying "Tell me everything about him."

For the rest of lunch and a majority of english he learned everything he needed to know about this Alex. Alex just moved here, he played drums and guitar but he only played the drums for his band, the nightmares. Fuck he wanted to hate him but that was a cool name. Alex worked at the record store and he had a D&D club at his old school. Dustin laughed at Eddie when he noticed how jealous he was of Alex. "Dude you're his twin! You two could literally be the same person" Dustin left Eddie as he perked up at this fact. He is just like Eddie. And if you were into him...how are you NOT into Eddie!?!

Eddie was now determined to find you before you left school for the day. And once he found you...he doesn't know what he'll do but he'll do something!

He searched the halls and finally found you by the history room, he remembers you saying that you needed to talk to the teacher about an assignment due soon and he was hoping that was who you were talking to but as he got closer he noticed it was Alex that had your attention. He clenched his jaw again and walked over to interrupt the conversation. He doesn't even realize what he's doing until he's already doing it. He grabs your bag and drags you to one of the empty classroom.

"What the hell are you doing??? Ed! Will you let go!" He finally lets you go and before you could say anything he cups your face and kisses you. He has never been so scared to kiss someone as he is right now but thankfully he felt you melt into him and he allows himself to melts into you.

[letmereedusyou]

i'm not yours - part 5

summary: Daryl and you are (were?) friends. He's dating Leah. You told him you loved him and things fell apart. Will it ever go back to normal?

words: 2.7k

warnings: alcohol use, swearing, mentions of drugs

A/N: Hi, darlings! Here another part of the series. I'm still not sure how long this whole thing is going to be, but I already have another idea for a longer story. My brain is working overtime these days! It was proofread by my English boyfriend, so I trust there aren’t any major errors. I hope you enjoy and part 6 is already in the works!

Parts: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

The drive was long, painfully hot and quiet, but you finally reached Alexandria's gates. All this time you were thinking about Daryl, the image of his foot stomping on one thing you really wanted. That 80s music cassette could've been such a gem in this stupid world. You couldn't remember the last time you've heard good music, other than some weird 60s psychedelic shit that was surely listened to during LSD trips. For once, you wanted to listen to something you knew you'd enjoy. And he knew that too. He knew you like no one else. You couldn't help but think that he did that on purpose, to sort of get back at you for destroying your friendship.

Back when you were friends, he'd never told you no. He'd always allow you to get giddy and excited about things, like that one time when you found a pink Nintendo DS console with somehow preserved 20% of battery. Your eyes shimmered when you looked at it, and then you turned it on and the screen came to life, a familiar sound played and you let out a squeak, making Daryl chuckle. He made a comment about you being a nerd, and you admitted it proudly. You played some games on it until the battery gave out and then kept it as a keepsake. To this day, the console had an honourable place on your nightstand, making you smile each time you look at it.

Or that one time when you both went on a supply run to town and you saw a shop with clothing you never could afford before zombie outbreak, so you made Daryl go with you and watch you try on dresses, coats and fancy trousers. He was sitting there on the footstool, watching you having fun. You knew this wasn't his thing at all, but yet he spent next two hours just watching you and making comments about how fancy professional, but stupid you looked. You kept a huge fur coat, apparently worth $4000, now free for anybody who wanted it. And you wanted it. Daryl rolled his eyes when you decided to wear the coat all the way back to Alexandria, but never stopped you. You believed he secretly enjoyed how silly it was.

Of course, he wouldn't come back with you in the car - the silence between you would be too much to bear for him and frankly, you were quite glad that he chose to walk. You were fed up with arguing, fighting over nothing, constantly being reminded about the "I love you" you shouted to him a while back. Every time you thought about it, you beat yourself up for ever making the rude comments, escalating the situation instead of calming it. You beat yourself up for ever saying the three words, for ever admitting your feelings, and it was heartbreaking for you to think that your friendship was gone.

Getting out of the truck, the ground crunched under your feet. You wiped some sweat off your forehead and and looked around. A few people looked at you, puzzled by the question of "where the hell is Daryl", especially Carol, who was walking towards you with concerned look on her face.

"Hey," she says, standing in front of you, crossing her arms on her chest. "You okay?"

"Hi," you say and smile gently to her, rubbing your forearm lightly. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Where is Daryl?"

There it is. The question. Of course, everyone was concerned that Daryl wasn't with you. He was a valued member of the group and people have grown fond of him over the years they've spent together. God forbid, something would happen to him. You admit, it was most definitely weird that you and Daryl weren't coming back together, so you could understand why people are so worried about him.

"He chose to walk back," you look away from Carol, feeling some type of embarrassment creeping up on your cheeks. You weren't exactly sure why you felt this way. "We argued. He walked away. Left keys in the truck, so I could come back."

"He chose to walk back?" she asks, raising an eyebrow. "You argued? About what? You two never argue."

That would've been right a few weeks ago, before you confessed your love, before he got weirded out. You and Daryl were great friends, almost attached to hip. Always together, always joking around. You never argued when you two were still friends. To some people it was quite weird that you didn't argue, but for you two it was natural. There was just never anything you'd think to argue about. But now? Now, you are sure that the friendship was never going to go back to normal.

"It's a long story, Carol," you say, scratching the top of your head. "And frankly, I don't think I want to go into details with it."

"Alright."

Carol stayed for a minute more, looking you up and down, concern never leaving her face. She must've seen how exhausted and unwilling to talk you were, because she smiled and left, asking no more questions. You watched her figure disappear into her house, the yellow doors of it reflecting the shine of the sun so harshly it made your eyes hurt.

You walked down the street, trying to use the buildings' shadows to your advantage, to hide yourself and get cooler. You couldn't help to think about Daryl and hope that he is staying out of the sun too, and staying hydrated enough. You knew it was silly to worry about him - he's always reasonable, knows how to take care of himself as he did so since he was a kid. Yet, a part of you almost seeks it out. That worry. That anxiety if he is okay. Maybe it was because your feelings for him. Maybe it was simply because he is... was your best friend and you wanted him to be safe. You felt like you will always worry about him in some way, even when you are not friends. You wanted to. Because you cared.

As you walk into your house, the walls provide you with a cool air, hugging your body tightly. You sigh deeply at the sensation and you walk straight into the bathroom. Taking your clothes off, you see yourself in the mirror. All the scars on your body, all the scratches, old and new, were glistening with sweat. You looked at your tattoo - a small detail that no one knew about, not even Daryl. The tattoo was a medium size, black and white Medusa head, gracefully wrapping around the contours of the ribcage. It symbolises transformation and power for you.

You haven’t had the best childhood, and you were raised in a household where emotions were not discussed in a calm manner. It was always a fight, always verbal abuse towards your mother that ended with a door slam from your father, and was never actually resolved or talked about again. Your parents always went to the usual selves a couple days later, bottling up whatever was bothering them. You've heard your mum cry many times because of the fights. You even heard her talking to her friend on the phone about getting a divorce, but it never actually happened. Your guess was she was too scared to actually leave your father.

Getting out of your childhood house was one of the things you dreamt about since you were a child. When you turned 18, instead of going to parties, getting drunk or doing your driving license, you got a job and moved out, marking your body with a tattoo symbolising the moment your life changed.

Hopping into the shower, you wash away all the sweat and grime from the day, desperate trying to wash away your feelings too. You thought about how the situation you are in with Daryl could've been avoided if you just kept your mouth shut. But then... you'll always be living in the shadows of Daryl's relationship. Shadows of Leah. Is that what I want, you asked yourself internally and you knew the answer is no. Sooner or later, Daryl would've found out about it. Sooner or later you would've told him and the same thing would happen. Somehow, even if it meant losing him, you were glad it was sooner rather than later. At least, you're not bottling up the feelings and emotions, just like your parents did.

Another couple weeks pass by and situation between you and Daryl hasn't changed. He's avoiding you like fire, keeping his distance everywhere. You stopped going on supply runs altogether, after speaking with Rick and telling him you don't want to work with Daryl anymore. Rick was shocked and, of course, asked questions, but you kept it short and sweet of an answer and explained you needed a break. He wasn't convinced, maybe it was the look on your face, finally letting you off.

One evening, you decided to open a few bottles of alcohol you stashed in your house. You kept them for special occasions, but you felt like this was an emergency and you just wanted to numb yourself for a little while. Sitting on the porch of your house, you kept sipping on some whiskey straight from the bottle, your mind wandering. You thought about your family, your friends, people you've lost since the zombies became reality. You thought about Daryl, what he was up to, what he was doing. Was he thinking about you too?

The sun was setting on the horizon. Everything looked so beautiful in the orangey hue. The trees were still, and the air was stuffy again, although it smelled like wet ground - a tell-tale of rain. A whole street was calm and quiet - an advantage of choosing to live in the corner of the settlement, next to an old couple, away from the places people would usually go to.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps and you turn your head towards it, hoping it would be Daryl, but the blonde hair in a pony tail and an all black outfit came to focus. Leah.

She stood there, smiling at you gently. You felt awkward and super conscious about the fact you were in love with her boyfriend, so you looked down at your drink as quickly as you looked at her.

"Hi," she says softly, sitting next to you on the steps. Her politeness and kindness was almost bugging you.

She was always quite nice to you and others. Maybe that was why people actually disliked her - it was coming off as ingenuine. The first time she came to Alexandria with Daryl, she was so sweet it almost made your teeth hurt. She spoke softly, all the time, like there was nothing that bothers her, like her zen was always in check. Daryl didn't seem to mind her overly sweet voice and attitude of a little girl who didn't know what to do with themselves. In fact, he seemed to like it which made you cringe. Maybe it was because he was a natural protector. A person that always keeps people safe and when he met Leah, all alone in the woods, his instincts kicked in and he needed to protect her. Or maybe it was because she was not shy in showing that she was interested in him, making eyes at him and laughing at his jokes, even when they were bad ones.

You grumble in response, nodding once to acknowledge Leah. There was a pause, a super uncomfortable silence between you two, before she opened her mouth again.

"You shouldn't drink that much, you know? It's not healthy."

"Okay, Leah," you say dismissively, taking another swig out of the bottle. Leah was the last person you'd listen to when it comes to advice. Or anything, really.

Another long pause happens, and you keep looking at the sunset, trying to avoid her burning gaze. You could tell she was scanning you, like she was trying to figure you out. You didn't care much about how she looked at you. You disliked her and her opinion about you didn't matter.

Leah sighs and clasps her hands on her knee.

"Why did you stop going on supply runs with Daryl?" she asks straightforwardly, and you finally turn your head towards her, tilting it to the side.

Your eyebrows turn upwards. You were trying to assess if she's serious or not. It's been a few weeks since the decision of stopping supply runs with Daryl, so you were sure she was joking, maybe mocking you or something. Your eyes meet and you can see concern on her face. Her lips press together, waiting for your answer. She was nervously tapping her foot on the ground.

"I was just wondering that's all. Did something happen?" she pressed even more. It was starting to get on your nerves a little, but you kept your mouth shut. Sipping on the amber liquid, you leaned against the baluster of the stairs.

The sun was barely visible anymore, the evening has gotten more dark. You could hear cicadas in the grass somewhere, and the slight buzzing of the electricity from the solar panels nearby. If it wasn't for Leah's presence next to you, the evening would've been perfect - full of drunken thoughts about Daryl, blurry vision and calm air.

"Daryl has been really absent lately," she says, shrugging her shoulders. She kept looking at the setting sun as well. "I guess I wanted to know why."

"Me and Daryl aren't friends anymore," you finally say in a low voice, almost like you didn't want to say those words out loud. You feel alcohol drifting around in your veins, so you try to steady your mind to make sure you don't just babble anything inappropriate to her.

"What?" Leah turns her gaze towards you, clearly confused, scowling hard and then turning her eyes towards the ground in front of her. "Why not?"

Again, you glance at her, making sure she was serious. And yet again, all you see is just concern and sincerity in her eyes. She looked genuinely shocked at he information you provided her with, like she actually had no idea what's been happening. Her whole body leaned towards you a little, waiting for any answer from you. But before you can answer her, she speaks up again.

"Daryl doesn't really share things like that with me," her voice almost a whisper, as she's rubbing her arm, either from coolness of the air or just a pure awkwardness of the situation. "I wouldn't have known if you two were not friends anymore. He's quite a mystery, isn't he?"

You swallow hard, the realisation of what she said hitting you like a ton of bricks. Leah was his girlfriend, the person who he should confide in, should talk to about things, especially about things like arguing with his best friend to the point of never speaking to them again. He should be speaking about his fears, dreams and future with her, right? Like couples do?

She doesn't know?

You couldn't help but wonder what else did he conceal from her? Does she know about his past? About his childhood, about Merle? Does she know how he got the scars on his back? Does she know anything about his past, anything at all?

You kept looking at her, completely dumbfounded, not knowing what to say or do. You take another swig out of the bottle, assessing the situation. What can you say? It's not exactly something you should speak about with Daryl's girlfriend. "I'm in love with your boyfriend and he didn't like that, so we aren't friends anymore" or "You boyfriend hates me because I confessed my love for him". You felt like it wasn't your place, wasn't something that you should announce to her. It should've been Daryl who bitches about it to her, not you.

You open your mouth, but the words don't come out. They get stuck in your throat, and you bite your lip, desperately trying to find anything to say, anything at all. Leah looks at you, clearly frustrated with something. Well, probably you. Or Daryl. Or both. She doesn't wait for your answer. Instead, she scoffs, gets up and walks off, leaving you on half-drunk on the stairs of your house, with even more to think about.

PART 6

[runabout-river]

Thoughts on JJK chapter 270 (spoilers)

Before I write my thoughts down, I have to confess that they've been tainted by a post I read I after reading the chapter. I decided to write the first part of my review as I had initially wanted to but the second part will discuss the things I read afterwards.

We start the chapter with a beautiful scene of a grave belonging to Tsumiki but my first thought was... what about Tsumiki's soul that had prevented Megumi from killing a girl?

If this is what Tsumiki's end and Megumi's final reaction to that would be, why did Gege bother including her soul as an active character into the story?

I also tried to find the raws to see what exactly was written on her grave. Only her surname? And was it also in English?

After that we get to Tengen and what happened to her and it was exactly here where my thoughts of this chapter went a big 🤨😵🧐🤬🤪

So Yuji just punched her out? And nothing more happened to her? The Culling Games are over? How did that happen? And through which remains would she stay stable? There was nothing left of Sukuna, at least nothing that had gone through Kenjaku's ritual. The only place she would be stable would still be inside Megumi. Her barriers are magically stable as well.

What a... neat ending to all those plot threads...

Then we come to Maki finding her past helpers and telling them that all the reincarnated sorcerers would be separated from their hosts by Yuji soon and...

That's against established canon. We already had the discussion that the souls of the host's can't be saved because they've been pushed down to complete darkness. Choso couldn't feel the soul of his host anymore and that was how the narrative absolved him from any wrongdoing because now he didn't have to give his body back for ethical reasons and he hadn't made an unethical deal to be reincarnated either.

Only Megumi was said to have a chance of being saved and no one else.

So now I'm here and scretching my head thinking... was Gege so desperate or time constipated to end the manga that he threw that point out? Or is sth else going on here...

We get Takaba back and he has a suspicious looking partner now, with whom he can do more comedy.

Now I don't think that's the real Kenjaku there. It's more likely that Takaba simply imposed that hairstyle on his new partner because he's missing his short time best friend.

For an actual Kenjaku comeback, he wouldn't have Geto's body anymore. Imo, Kenjaku did have spare bodies lying around he could've fled to at the last second though.

We get more loose ends being tied up and for Higuruma it's clemency. This is another point in the "everything turns out perfectly good for the good guys" part we have been bombarded with in this chapter.

I'm like, Gege, isn't this too much? Wasn't JJK darker than this? Even Shoko gave up her smokes. The military plot is just "we'll deal with them" and there's no mention of JJ societal instability with the clans falling apart.

Either he really wanted to wrap every loose end up... or

Gege forgets Megumi's scar on a pretty big panel and we get an anime love complication with one chapter remaining. It was funny though.

Then we come to the end where we're set up to believe that life of the first year trio will go on as it should've been without those major Shibuya/Shinjuku complications.

Just going on missions and living life like that.

Now, one could accept that kind of ending (why isn't that in chapter 271 though?) But it comes off as so... lackluster and mended with fire after big chunks of the plot were cut off.

After I had finished the chapter, I was the most disappointed at everything that had to do with Tengen and the CG. So Gege sets up that the sorcerer life will continue afterwards. Even without wanting a Part 2, just ending the CG and Tengen's story like that is... unnecessarily boring and wasted space for nearly everything that came before that.

But then I read @thepersonperson post on how the last 3 chapters of JJK could possibly have been an induced dream sequence this whole time.

Induced by Yuji through his ability of creating fake memories right before defeat/death. His own DE is an application of this and Sukuna's strangely similar ability of talking with freshly deceased people in a dreamscape.

When Yuji had first expanded his domain, I went on such a ramble at the time about these strange abilities of them both. What I said back then was that Yuji wasnt an active/aware participant of them but by now he had acquired Sukuna's CT and again a DE.

This could mean that his induced dream sequences could've evolved enough that he became aware of them instead of only pushing them into someone else. In other words:

Yuji is dreaming of his best happy ending.

And here truly experiences that but he can't tell until now that it's a dream. He might very well be lying on the ground now about to die.

The post I linked adds more details to this theory like inconsistent character placements and "mistakes" like Megumi's scar suddenly missing, which would be commonplace in a dream.

That last picture up there with the guy who's supposed to be cursed but it was actually his girlfriend who had her perception of reality altered as well as the name of this chapter, would be the final hints about the last few chapters having been another glitch in perception.

Now only one week is left then we'll get our final answers to JJK. If this dream theory is true, then Gege will establish himself as the biggest troll, either with a JJK 2 or with a tragic ending.

(And if this really comes true, then I don't think I'll manage to escape the spoilers)

But whatever might come and even though I'm meh about the end (as it's presented to us right now) I still love JJK and immensely enjoyed reading, watching and engaging with it 😄

[rubyreadd]

except it’s your driver that has an entourage that shittalks Lando (don’t even deny it lmfao y’all bragged about it and called it county) while Lando has never been an asshole to precious Oscar

To be honest anon I'm not quite sure what the argument you're trying to make is.

"Oscar's entourage"?? Where?

If you're talking about Max saying that Oscar came in as a number one driver and so of course he wasn't going to bend the knee to Lando just because. Or even George having a chuckle about Lando qualifying P17, then that's just plain and simple mind games.

If you mean Mark Webber and him telling Charles that he had the opportunity to overtake Lando in the championship at Baku, or being outspokenly supportive of Oscar, then that's just Mark doing his job. He's an F1 pundit and Oscar's manager, he's going to have opinions on both subjects.

Lando on the other hand has the full backing of the British media, especially Sky Sports, who are a major English language distributor of F1 coverage. In Monza they could not shut up about how Oscar's fair and hard racing was actually unfair to Lando because Oscar should've held position and defended Lando's lead.

Yet in Australia when Oscar was ordered to relinquish position to Lando because he was on fresher tyres and McLaren wanted to challenge Ferrari, there was no remarking that it was unfair to push Oscar off a home race podium when Lando could not close said gap to Ferrari.

Similarly, when Oscar and Carlos touched in Miami and Oscar dropped to the back of the grid, then put in a mega effort to gain back several positions as well as set the fastest lap of the race, only to be told by McLaren to back off so as not to cause a safety car, it was accepted as the right thing to do.

Lando is not defenceless nor is he is a victim of some "Oscar entourage". Oscar has been a good team mate to him, has up until now bided his time, but if Lando is going to leave a gap then Oscar has every right to be a racing driver.

Ayrton Senna was a McLaren champion after all.

Now, granted, Lando has not been verbally dismissive of Oscar, but actions do speak louder than words. When Lando refused to give position back to Oscar in Hungary until the penultimate lap, it was as Nico Rosberg said: Lando wanting to humiliate Oscar.

Yes this was whole situation could've been avoided if McLaren had given Oscar the preferential pit stop strategy he had earned after getting the better start on Lando and leading the race for more than half the laps. However, if Lando had acquiesced to giving the position back when he was first asked to, there would have been a further twenty laps where he could've fought Oscar for the win, with a good chance of taking P1 because his tyres were up to heat.

Instead, he had a tantrum and delivered McLaren a tainted 1-2 that completely undermined Oscar's maiden win.

He also chucked a fit at Lewis in the cool down room, when all Lewis was doing was complimenting Lando on his speed, and then went on to snub Oscar on the podium by not spraying Oscar with champagne. A behaviour he repeated in Monza.

I know your argument is likely to be that F1 is a high stress environment where everyone is fighting for wins and championships and no driver wants to lose out by a few tenths or a lap, so it's natural for drivers to act out when they do. But for contrast let me talk about Charles and Max.

In Baku this weekend it was clear that Charles was intensely frustrated with his P2, yet he still had the grace to congratulate Oscar, compliment him on his race craft, and celebrate with Oscar on the podium. Similarly, Max went out of his way to wave at Lando after the race, even though Lando had bitten just that little bit more into his championship lead.

And what did Lando do? Snitch on Max for overtaking under the VSC even though it was after the chequered flag.

It's this kind of repeated unsportsmanlike behaviour that leaves me with diminishing goodwill for Lando. I laud Oscar for being cunty when he stands up for himself and his right to race, because Oscar shows maturity and respect towards his peers even when he is disappointed with his results. Lando however makes his poor performance (even when it objectively isn't) everyone else's problem.

Oscar has been driving F1 for one and a half seasons. Lando has been driving for six. Yet it is Oscar who carries himself with the mindset of a champion.

At the end of the day anon, it's unlikely that I am going to sway your opinion about Oscar and that's fine. You are free to like and dislike whatever driver you want. All the advice that I can offer you is to block the anti Lando tags, block Oscar's tag, and block anyone who posts F1 content, opinions, and discourse you don't like. Including myself. I am a stranger on the internet, it's not worth your time or peace to get upset in my inbox because I am voicing my distaste for a driver on my personal blog.

[m-joys]

Bay!Donnie: crush dates someone else

@thequeenofcupps :Hi! I was wondering if I can request bayverse Donatello where he finally manages to have enough courage to ask out reader but because he took to long reader is already dating someone? I want the angstiest angst that you can make 😇 also can it be hc’s?

A/n: saw this rn and had to write it. Lord give me angst♡ this also isn't proof read and English isn't my first language so sorry🙏

Even tho your first interaction with the turtles was quite...harsh to say the least, you just had to accept the four mutants as a new occurrence in your life. Simply knowing of their existence and having the chance to endanger them in any way by them letting you go without a care was too dangerous.

You quickly adapted to them being in your presence, simply seeing them as your friends rather than some mutants. Though in case with Donnie, you seemed to like him a lot more than the rest and not in a friendly way. The same could've been said vice versa, but the purple masked turtle didn't seem to be as sure in his feelings as you are.

It was no secret that you two were particularly close with each other, most of the time when you would come over majority of your time was spent with him in his lab. Talking about random things, him showing you his latest finds and relaxing together were probably your favorite moments of the day and each day the bigger spark between you two was forming.

The thing being, you could never truly figure out his feelings about you. You knew he didn't hate you, that's for sure, but you couldn't help but wonder whether the feelings were mutual or you were just imagining things. With that said, you decided not confess as to not harm the friendship between you two.

Time passed by and you came to the conclusion more and more that he didn't feel the same way about you. Deciding that It's the best to just move on and look for love elsewhere, you cut your time with Donnie short. Still visiting the lair and his lab, but the visits became more infrequent as you have now focused on meeting new people and trying out your luck in dating.

Donnie, of course, notices your sudden change in behavior. How couldn't he? The thing he thinked about the most was you after all, anyone in his vicinity could surely confirm that given that he managed to always bring you up in conversations no matter the topic. To say he was infatuated would be an understatement. This being the first time he ever felt something like this, he wasn't really sure how to act or what to do. He's a teenager after all.

Your visits became less and less frequent, which deeply hurt him even though he wasn't expressing it directly. He couldn't help but think that he was somehow the cause of this and that you started despising him for some reason. Yet, he couldn't just sit still and wonder knowing that that way he would never get the answer he deeply craved and would have to live with his feelings for you never being confessed to, well, you.

Mustering up the courage, he picked the time when he knew you were most likely to be home and visit you to finally let his heart out. The burden of his most beloved person drifting away was too much for him to handle and the only way he could possibly fix it is to talk to you.

Leaping from roof to roof, in his head Donnie was only thinking and connecting sentences to find the best way to say everything he's been thinking about since you two first shared glances. Replaying in his memory some of the times you shared together, only then did he manage to figure out that you probably had a crush on him too. All of the little smiles, discrete touches and obvious favorisem only seemed to make themselves clear right now.

Taking one final jump onto your fire escape and carefully looking around so no one sees him, he wa ready to knock on your window and call out for you.

At first, he thought you weren't home as your bedroom was dark with doors shut and you weren't in there, but he notices the light beams that peeked on the bottom of the door from the living room. Deciding to change position and move from one windows to another, Donnie made a quick way towards the other side of the building.

The urge to knock immediately and call out for you quickly went away when he noticed the commotion in your living room. At first he couldn't exactly tell who was there with you or why, but it seemed to quickly make sense to him once the stranger grabbed you by the waist and left a kiss on your forehead whilst sitting on the couch.

Seeing another person with you didn't hurt him as much as seeing you so happy, the way you were happy when you were with him. At least it used to be him.

A tear couldn't help but fall down his cheek as he realized that all of this could've been prevented if he had thought about confessing sooner. He was the smart one, how couldn't he have figured out long ago that you were in love with him? The same way he still is with you? Right now he couldnt tell if he was sad, disappointed in himself, hopeless or all three of those.

Turning around to make his way back home, he couldnt help but ask himself what if's. If he was a little sooner? If he notices earlier? If he had the courage to tell you right away?

He quickly stopped, realizing that there is no point. You could never be his, and he could never be yours. Maybe thats just the way it's meant to be.

[roukabi]

Well, I said back here that I wanted to do a NYTW critter-ification. So here we are!

As usual, design notes/trivia/comments under the cut:

"Rook, none of these are animals I'd ever consider related to the Hadestown cast."

Yeah, I know. But it looks cool, right?

Orpheus strikes me as someone who was wild as a boy. And by 'wild', I mean biting and growling and hunting squirrels with his bare 10-year-old hands. He got less feral when approached with food and stable housing. With all that in mind, it made sense to give him something that matched that energy. Also, community-minded? Famous vocals? Effortlessly beautiful? The connections are there! And I stole from this drawing I made a long while back. Yeah I bet y'all forgot about that but I didn't! I still really like the idea of werewolf Orph!

...come to think of it though, we give nytw orph too much credit. I think it's easy to pin him as the brave, heroic union leader because of his confidence, but he's just a poet. He's lovey-dovey, he's gentle. He's got a very healthy ego, but it doesn't overpower his soft core. There's a reason his 'If It's True' is so sad - he's not a fighter, he's an artist, and more importantly, a lover. He has no real incentive to finish his song (for better or worse, narratively-speaking). He's an artist who talks big and loves his wife.

That said, it seems a little weird to give him such a fierce animal. But as is the case for bway orpheus's fox choice, i am a fan of designs that betray the real character underneath. His big snarky wolf persona (fursona?) falls apart when he looks at Eurydice for more than 3 seconds.

Wow, that could've been its own post tbh. Moving on, the star-like speckles in his fur were added because of his name - "the darkness of night". Canis Major is somewhere on his fur.

Now, could a catgirl and dogboy really fall in love?

With regards to Eurydice, you can't improve upon perfection, which is why my design looks very similar to @riveracheron's Eurydice design. You can see most of ismene's design here (I can't find the original ref image, sorry!) for reference. I wasn't sure about making Eurydice's nose yellow, but she needed yellow somewhere in her palette, and a black or pink nose looked kind of wrong. She's a loner kitty built for the snow. Not that she enjoys it. Also I wanted to add a cute white/yellow bow around her neck but forgot :( pretend it's there

Anyway, probably the most interesting animal decision was Hermes. I mentioned in my Broadway critter designs that I wanted to keep the neutral characters as birds. That meant I had to find a bird to match Chris Sullivan's Hermes, and, idk, I liked the barn owl the most. Barn owls are screechy and painfully unexpressive, but if Legend of the Guardians: the Owls of Ga'Hoole has taught me anything, it's that anything can be expressive if you break just enough rules. So there.

Barn owls are associated with doom and death in old English tales, and they're known to live in abandoned houses. It would sound like the barn owl should be given to Hades, but I like to think that since Hermes is the one telling the story, he's in charge of the cycles of death and renewal that take place in the story. He's a harbinger whether he likes it or not.

For the Fates, I already had cat designs in mind, but I almost made them birds to fit my neutral rule. Then I kinda waffled on it and said "well, the Fates are kind of mean, and you know what would be fun? Wild animals vs domestic animals". Cats it is! And they are anything but dressed the same: we got stripes, spots, and swirls. They torment their fellow kitty Eurydice for being 'wild', they're invasive, and they get in fights with the local wolf. The relationships write themselves.

I didn't draw Hades and Persephone since they'd already been covered in the Broadway lineup, and there wasn't much of a difference between bway and nytw to justify new drawings. They're still critters though, trust me.

And that's it! I guess had a lot more to say about these than last time. As always, the designs are free to use with credit.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Hi friends! Super interesting thoughts. Fundamentally, the reason I think the scene makes Neytiri seem less sympathetic than Quaritch is because they didn't show enough of Neytiri and her perspective otherwise in the movie. Neytiri isn't developed as a character in these movies enough, she isn't given the care and then depth that she should be. I completely agree with your perspectives on giving complexity to her and letting a female main character do a bad thing (which they still did, the version in the movie is still pretty dark), but she was barely a main character in this movie. Almost all of the scenes we would've seen centered around her, save for her talk with Jake about leaving the forest and their date night, would've been centered around violence. Meanwhile we are given complexity and layers for Quaritch.

As a main character, Neytiri is never the center. We are never given HER perspective. The first movie we see her as Jake sees her; beautiful, exotic, fierce, and loving. In this movie, I would argue we see her mostly from Spider's perspective; ruthless and terrifying, willing to do anything for her family. The way she is framed in that scene is not at Quaritch's level, it's putting her as the savage beast that Quaritch (and in that scene Spider) see her as. This is totally something they could have done, and then fought against, if we had also been given Neytiri in other lights in the movie. Like, as you mentioned, the deleted scene of her learning and adapting to the Metkayina, a version of her which we never saw in the movie.

I agree with you Neytiri should get to be complex, layered, and to make bad decisions. I just think this movie didn't earn that. They didn't show us enough good to earn the bad, if that makes sense. When we get to The Southern Raiders episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender, we have spent almost two whole seasons seeing Katara as the most compassionate, loving, and forgiving character. Someone with intense layers. We know the character, so when we see her do something so out of character from what we had seen, we completely understand how she was pushed to that point, and how we would have ended up there too. With Neytiri, we spend almost no time with her, seeing and understanding her. A lot of her pain is relayed to us off screen, from deleted scenes teaching us about Sylwanin, or from previous movies that show us Jake's perspective of the loss of her home and her father. We don't see enough of her for the average viewer to SEE it, and UNDERSTAND her.

Basically, my point is just that I wish they had written what you're saying, but they aren't that good at writing. I think that's evident by how many people demonize and hate Neytiri for the tamer version of the scene, and paint Quaritch as a redeemable loving father.

omgg please tell me that you’ve seen the extended atwow extended cuts?? they’re phenomenal and canon and i can’t be told otherwise.

The Parents from hell one had me on the edge of my seat I was so scared even though I know the outcome, well now we know that Neytiri was definitely going to kill, not even to bargain for Kiri but for revenge and that’s just ughhh i can’t wait to incorporate this in my fanfic

I gotta say, I do fundamentally disagree, at least about the parents one. It's not so much of a deleted scene as a full rewrite of the scene. If Neytiri's goal was to kill Spider and take revenge over saving Kiri, why did they do with the version where she lets him go immediately? I don't know, man, to me it seems like they filmed that and then decided it didn't work with the character or for what they had planned. It definitely makes sense to me that they chose not to go with that version. Even the name, "The Parents From Hell," it makes it seem like it's a dark alternate universe.

But yes, scenes that were missing and not included I am all for thinking of as canon! But this is a full rewrite. It's not canon, because it's not what happened in the final version. I think the reason they chose to change it is more telling than the fact that it was filmed in the first place.

But of course, I am mad it exists. I wish they never released it. I don't like what they seem to think of Neytiri's character. I don't like the framing of her as less sympathetic than Quartich (even though a lot of idiots still took it that way which is still on the writing team as well), but I'm glad they understood they had to change the scene. I'm trying to withhold judgement until I see the full arc they intend for her, but as of now I'm not very pleased. She should be the heart of this series if it is to stay it's course as a true love letter to indigenous communities and what has happened to them. I hope they don't forget that.

[my-stories-vault]

Chapter 1 ~ The Supernatural Wars.

Pairing: English Dean Winchester X English Y/N L/N

Blurb: When the residents of this Earth found out that they were but a draft in God's numerous stories, they decided to make noise in hopes that their creator would return. Nothing can be louder than the begs of the powerless, the cackles of the ruthless, or the unending destruction left in the wake of the most merciless wars any universe can ever see—here the bloodshed never ends. So, tell me how can two young soulmates, then, find love's shade of red under all this crimson gore?

Warnings/Trigger Warnings (18+): Language, gore, voilence, major and minor character deaths, thoughts of suicide (not graphic), substance abuse (alcohol and cigarettes), mentions of wars (I mean, it's in the name).

{ Series Masterlist ; Main Masterlist }

Chapter 1: The Birthday Girl.

The dirt stuck under your nails as you clawed at the floor like a rabid dog. The wildness in your eyes had your actions to match. When you started scratching wood, you grabbed your shovel and bashed the rest of the pine box in.

You paused when you saw the locket slung around the skeleton. The acrid smell of the rotten flesh barely registered with you. Tentatively, you unhooked the locket - a heart shaped one, carved from within for the purpose of sticking photos. It had two necklaces, the heart cleaved in two as well - perfect gift for a couple. You had to unstick the existing photos and you gently placed them back in the skull's folded hands.

Your back cricked when you rose to your full height, sore from all the grunt work; you were dwarfed by the six foot hole you had dug yourself.

Pulling up, you showered the grave with salt and gasoline - murmuring a last rite, and freeing the soul from the locket you took. You dropped a fiery match that engulfed the dead woman.

'Told you I'd be back,' you muttered, a small sad smile on your face. 'Goodbye, Grams. Sorry it took me so long, but . . . I'm leaving today. Put in a good word with God for me, eh?'

The wind chilled you in answer. You took that to mean her support - wherever she may be.

You wished you could've buried her again, but the smoke you lit was a signal to other predators. With her last symbol in your hand, you rushed to your borrowed car - a minivan, actually; for anonimity, you told yourself because you hated it so much.

The drive back to the compound would be short and dangerous; anything too still was always a target. Given your human scent, you weren't even surprised that a pack of Ferals had wandered to your car.

It was occasional to see monsters on land unless you were looking for them, or them you - it was usually only infilltrated by monsters when it was the courtesy of the angels; or when you could see that stray monster that had been driven to insanity out of hunger. Besides that, the lands belonged solely to the human faction.

You added the silencer to your gun as you flattened against a tree. They were already tensely sniffing the air and turning slowly in the direction of the grave.

You counted six. Your best weapon that would be silent and stealthy was in the car, you hadn't carried the bow and arrows because they were a hindrance to grave-digging. Whereas guns were swift but loud; if fire was a large problem, the guns were the worst way to call trouble.

You waited till the first monster's breath hovered above you, stale and rancid, mouth open with pieces of flesh dangling. You gulped your gag, placing your gun in line with it's jaw as it drew even nearer, snarling happily as it recognised your humanity. Lips pulled back to rip a chunk out of you when you shot it.

The silencer was only so effective that it didn't call more monsters from around. The ones on the side of the road with you were now snapping their jaws alertly, and all headed in your direction.

You caught the one falling on you - it's ears long and flapping like a bat's, eyes so large that they reminded you of golf balls, now lifeless. There was a lack of hair all across its body, stretchy skin that wrinkled a lot as well. Overall, it disgusted you. You used the monster as a sheild for any incoming claws and you shot the rest of them from behind your barrier.

Once clear, you dropped the disgusting body that seemed to have worsened in smell. You wrenched open you car door about to climb in when you noticed in your periphery, through the side-view mirror that you had miscounted.

The long inhuman claws of another Feral swept the air where your head had been a second ago - they could barely see, relying mostly on their nose and ears to guide them; these ones must've been attracted here by the fire in the hole.

Since you had leaned into the car by ducking, you had grabbed an arrow on the passenger seat and plunged it backwards so that it went through the monster's neck. You pushed it away from the car and into its friend.

You rushed to kill them, under pressure of their low growls that could bring even more monsters out. Restarting the car that groaned only invited more to the party. 

You calmly reversed your car and ran it over the monsters quickly. They let out a series of yelps and snarls as they collapsed. When you had straightened your car, you knew there would be more on your tail, so you sped down the trail back to your compound.

The security at the gate was quick to admit you; all the cars had tags on their windshields stating their Continent and Leaderships, etc. You pulled up in the quiet parking lot that was teeming with cars from all over North America. The gaurds also shot down any and all monsters that had managed to follow you, with their crossbows, spears and the other long-distance weapons.

You jogged up the stony staircase of one of the many palaces your family owned, and were let through the double doors without any hassle. The castle was bustling, the servants shouting orders to one another, preparing for the reception that evening. The guests were on the backyard for the outdoor wedding, which was to happen in ten minutes - something you were going to make a run for.

Thinking you went undetected, you tried to sneak into the changing rooms, until the first maid spotted you, rushing to your side with a wide-eyed panicky look.

'Lady Y/N! Where have you been? Oh, we've been worried sick! And look at that dress! So dirty, and you stink—!'

'Ms Frich,' you held a hand up, voice sharpened. She stopped trying to rotate you to assess the damage. She seemed to be going red in the face as she was forced to silence her words. You brought her with you to the changing room so that she didn't attract more unwanted attention.

'If my mother asks, I was here the whole time,' you warned her after you shut yourself in the empty room. 'All right, Ms Frich?'

'But—'

'That's an order,' you said, sternly. Your hands went over your neck to untie your dress. 'Now, help me change, will you?'

Fifteen minutes later, with Crystella Frich's help, you had donned a beautiful and delicate gown that came down to your ankles.

There were things wrong with it: it was pink, made of lace that made you want to scratch your skin raw all over, and it was lined with too many flowers that didn't associate with your personality at all.

You had to take a deep breath because the night was only starting. Rubbing light makeup on your face that got Crystella's side-eyes, and dousing yourself in perfume that got the maid's nose to scrunch, you deemed yourself ready for a miserable night.

With the bouquet of vibrant azaleas in your hand, you apologized profusely to your best friend when you arrived. She waved it off with a knowing glint in her eyes.

'You're here, that's what matters.'

As if you were going to miss this. It was a good thing she loved your brother unconditionally because your mother was not an easy woman to please.

Seriously, I do not envy you, your heart went out to her.

The music signalled your entrances played it's starting notes.

B/F looked breathtaking - you could only say as much before getting in line, as rehearsed. Her white dress swooping, and her train dragging down a few feet behind her. The puffy skirt of her wedding gown was fitting for her royalty. Her white bouquet of roses a representation of her peace-loving streak, ironically, since she was a well-reknowned hunter, currently pursuing the case of Metatron, an abhorently well-educated and nasty angel. She was the only person in the room with the appropriate amount of jewelery.

Rest of the guests, including you, all hoarded weapons under your swishy robes. From the tips of some tiaras to the bottom the pointy heals, girls were most heavily adorned with arms. While the men were more obvious about flaunting their voilence.

B/F and Seth were told not to worry about their safeties for one night, that they would be flanked by gaurds all day long - but you could bet your most priced gown on the fact that your brother would have a concealed gun under his suit jacket somewhere.

You walked down the aisle as the maid of honour, a cocky regal smirk on your lips. You couldn't help the pride that swelled in your chest to be seeing your brother at the end of it.

The procession was formal and quick. The vows were a bit longer and far more heartfelt.

The party moved soon to the reception hall where the palace servants had done a splendid job. The room determined the mood from the get-go; dulcet and romantic tones of decorations hanging from the high ceilings, even the barred windows were slit open for some sunshine. The flaming torches were fierce, glowing along with the warmth of the day. An assortment of food and drinks lined one of the walls, even a photo booth occupied one of the corners. Majority of the floor was being dominated by the dance floor, a smaller section of the room dedicated for round tables to sit on.

The royal waltz was being played by the band; they had begun with the national theme song before they eased into more appropriate songs for the day.

The hefty gowns and long coats of the Governors and the Generals - all hunters - were moving perfectly for a waltz. No matter what the song, you suspected that the waltz was really the only dance you all could allow yourselves when the whole continent's officers were in attendance.

You grabbed a few dances with a few good men, trying to avoid the unsavory kind as well as those bitching royal housewives who would no doubt find some way to broach the conversation of your departure or of your marraige.

The rest of your time was assigned for socialising. As one of the up-and-coming leaders, especially one who was sailing off to Europe the same night - it was of great importance to stay on top of things, to impress your name upon a few minds. It would also serve as a last chance to forge some contacts from this continent before belonging to the next.

You were discussing shop with one of the reaserchers at the lab that your father controlled when you heard your name being called.

'Ms L/N,' caught up an elderly. Mr Burke wasn't a Leader anymore but he kept track of the events of the world long after his retirement. He was shaking your hand with both of his, mindless of the conversation he interrupted.

Sal, one of your friends, had been talking about the ship you would be taking that night. He was prattling off the probable monsters and all the provisions you were carrying for it - you were double-checking, really; you'd been preparing for this for a week.

'I couldn't let the night end before telling you that what you did with the banshees in North Carolina - astounding. Inspired, really.'

You smiled tightly at him. 'Thank you, Mr Burke. It was a team effort,' you nodded at Sal. 'Please meet Mr Syl. One of the better researchers of our continent. His labs contributed to the, as you said, inspired solutions that we have today.'

Sal beamed, smiling smugly before shaking Mr Burke's hand. He was one of the more attention-seeking people. It served you well to keep him pleased. Sal had worked at the labs for about five years now and he was brilliant at his job. It was a pity that he wasn't more reknowned - but then again, his ego was inflamed enough. By far, he was your least liked friend, but a valued team member nevertheless.

'Really?' the older, richer man said. 'Well, I would love to hear all about that . . .'

'Please do,' you effortlessly handed off the responsibility to the talk to your colleague. 'And we wish you would keep an open mind - maybe even feel encouraged for the next time you make a donation.'

He was one of the sponsers. Mr Burke was few of those people who left his job but the job never left him. He was one of the old Leaders, having led South America; and one of very few ones who lived up to an old age. He married late; so even if he was of your grandfather's age, his daughter was a year younger than you were.

The man was a bragger by all rights, and as fake as the wig that he denied wearing. But he was good money, the additional support in times when the royal treasury fell short for it's citizens.

He also made changes in policies across countries where he felt necessary - it drove your brother crazy, especially since, as the acting Leader of America, your brother should've been asked for permission first. But eh, not your problem anymore, you supposed.

'Always after my wallet!' he claimed, but he didn't seem to mind, chukling and stroking his non-existent goatee.

'Oh, you've spoiled us, Mr Burke,' you gently stoked his ego. 'I apologise if I expected.'

His chest seem to swell as large as his potbelly, his shirt buttons threatening to burst. 'Nonsense! You know I'm here for you! Be sure to wait for a hefty check this year, Ms L/N - for the labs!'

You toasted to that, slipping away, sipping on your champagne as you went. You were gunning for a refill before you sacrificed more of your dignity to another one of these pretentious fucks - after all, there were many ex-leaders and "well-wishers" to pick from: the cat woman who could pass for a chimney, the Old Prince Sleazeball who would be sure to propose to you again for the position of his hunredth wife, or the Lord nosy gossip gay who sometimes knew about new things in your life before you did. You preferred the chimney, if you were being honest; even if you died from second-hand smoke in her presence, at least you didn't want the earth to swallow you up like you felt with the Sleazeball or the Gossip.

You had just exchanged your empty glass for one that was brimming with sparkling champagne when the drink was taken from your hands. Snatched, more-like.

Your frowning face was met with a similar scowl.

The woman who took your tolerance for this party was tapping her heel lightly on the shining marble floor.

'How many of those have you had?' she had her free hand on her hip.

Your frown deepened. 'Not enough to think you're funny,' you tried to grab your alcohol. She pulled it out of your reach, tsking you. 

'Do you know what this will do to your image?' her British accent that was alike yours, made it sound more scandalous than it was. She was also a friend who worked in Public Relations for you.

None of your team members were raised British, unlike you. They were much ahead in their respective fields of studies when you chose them for your team when you were mere thirteen years old. It did mean that they were all near a decade older than you were - mostly. They had to alter their habits and practices to suit the needs of the team ever since. Layla, or as everyone called her, Lay, had been one of the easier transformers. Her need for publicity had made it easier for her to be a perfectionist.

Unfortunately, that made it harder for you sometimes.

'I'm afraid you're about to tell me,' you groaned. 

She huffed. 'The last thing we need is you, a Leader by tonight to get drunk and create a scene on the night of her depature. Or worse yet! On the night of her brother's wedding!'

'Blimey, I'm not getting drunk! I'm just . . . self-medicating.'

She narrowed her eyes, placing your drink on a passing tray, and you watched longingly as it walked away from you. She grabbed you by the arm to take you to a more private corner, her expression softening as you slumped in defeat.

'I know today's hard for you,' she said. 'But we can't give any of these people any reasons that might weaken their trust in you.'

Despite the hard spots Lay put you in, you had come to see her as a real well-wisher in these pools of smarmy bastards. When it came down to it, your team were the only people you could trust, nice or not. Them, and the newly married couple.

'I'm sorry. I guess.'

She squeezed your arm. 'I understand. But pull it together, honey.'

You steeled your gaze, and nodded. 'All right. You wouldn't have any updates to take my mind off, would you?'

She hesitated but nodded. 'Top secret and unconfirmed. Jessica Winchester—'

'Sam Winchester's wife?'

'Yeah, the Asian Leaders. She's coming to visit her brother-in-law.'

Your brows scrunched, 'Dean Winchester? My partner.'

'Your partner, yes.'

'Why?'

'Confidential, of course,' she made a face. 'When I asked, they said that it wasn't of my business.'

'That's fishy,' you noted. 'They don't trust us, or they are not trustworthy.'

'Very hush-hush they are.' She complained, 'I mean, how much do we even know about your future partner, eh? The way they keep secrets, makes one wonder if they truly have something to hide.'

You gave her a rueful smile. 'Not everyone likes media, Lay.'

'Mrs Stun. Lady Y/N, could I have a moment please?'

Your conversaton was stalled by a man who was at least a foot and a half taller than you, with a far more heavier built, but with most features matching yours. You smiled at the new man with two drinks in his hands.

'Lord L/N, of course.' It felt weird not call your brother by name, but Lord/Lady was followed by surname after marriage. 'Mrs Stun, please excuse us.'

She nodded with a large beaming smile characteristic for people of her career. 'Is that for Lady Y/N?' she pointed at the whiskey glasses in your elder brother's hand, who nodded.

Gracefully, she plucked one of the glasses from his hands, and clinked it to the other. 'Thank you very much, Lord L/N. Once again, congratulations on your wedding!' She flounced out, immediately jumping onto the nearest sponser to talk their ears off with compliments of your name.

Your brother chuckled in disbelief, and you sighed.

'Does she ever stop working?' his burly American accent was a stark contrast to your pristine English one.

'I think even when she dies, she would want to have make-up on so she looks good lying in her casket.'

'At least she's good. People are talking about your transfer as much as the wedding,' he sipped his drink, no hint of resentment towards you, just a glittering happiness dancing in his eyes.

'Let that be an exaggeration,' you scowled, eyeing his drink enviously. 'I'm nervous about it, as is.' You usually wouldn't be seen turning down fame, but there was a buildup of bile on your throat from being a nervous wreck all evening.

He glanced at you, some of that happiness diming. 'You're good at what you do, you know?'

'I've never been outside the palace except for hunts, and suddenly, I'm leaving the continent?' your hands fidget into position in front of you, so to an outsider you would look regal and deep in conversation. Inside, however, your heart pounded at every mention of Europe.

You had been preparing for it all your life, but it seemed doomed somehow. The smaller steps had been easier, the preparations that your staff and team had been doing for over a week had seemed bite-sized. Yet, just the word "Europe" seemed too large to swallow.

'I thought you were excited,' he said.

'I was. I am,' you sighed. 'It's just so much bigger when it's so close. I will be half-responsible for a continent, it's people and their problems—'

'And you would be better at it than I ever was,' he said, smiling fondly at you.

You scoffed, 'Right, because that's why I got Europe, the continent of the exiled.'

You were probably exaggerating. You got the continent because you were a Secondborn, and it had been your mother's native land once upon a time. But it was no secret that the European leaders were often the harbringers of dark ages. At least, that had been the case for the last few centuries where the once good name of Europe had been dredged through muck. Most importantly, what terrified you the most was that you weren't even supposed to be a Leader so soon.

'Hey, before Dean went bat-shit crazy, he seemed to be doing well for himself and Europe,' he joked.

Recently, the previous Leader of Europe, Gordon Walker, who you were replacing had been executed by his own partner - your soon-to-be partner - the world-renowned Dean Winchester who had defeated the Darkness, or colloquially, Amara. Dean was famous for it because the world had been highly imbalanced by Amara, throwing millions of families into another rendition of the same old Apocalpyse. He was the black sheep of the hunting world because of his secretive nature, yet somehow the most respected because of his biggest achievement.

You had only gotten your position because of Gordon's death. It's the job of the Firstborn, and their spouses to rule the continents. Often the Secondborns were the back-ups, and you had been on the reserve, raised as a European, for this very day.

At midnight, on your twenty-fifth birthday, they would be shiping you out. There were more candidates for this opportunity, of course, but you had been closest to the age of twenty-five - no coronation ceremony took place before that age.

'So my only hope is that I don't lose my marbles?' you snarked.

'You're very capable of keeping-it-together,' he smiled. There was an easy confidence in him that made people believe in everything that he said. The courts agreed with most of the things that came out of his mouth, the ladies swooned over his charm, and the world admired him for the prosperity he seemed to bring about; he was the first Leader to end an archangel: Raphael.

'Aren't you glass half-full?' you groused.

'Try it some time. Makes poeple like you. You might just kill Lay out of sheer happiness,' he chuckled while you cracked a small smile.

'You're happy,' you noticed.

He quirked a brow.

'More than usual,' you clarified. You wouldn't say that you and your brother were in constant touch with one another; but you were there for the important stuff, you believed.

Once more, the twinkle in his eyes intensified. 'I am in love.'

You shot him a look that told him you weren't buying what he was selling. He rolled his eyes.

'Won't hurt you to try it sometime, you know?'

It was your turn to roll your eyes. You were about to retort negatively when a remembrance struck you. 'Shoot!'

'What?'

'Come with me!'

You dragged your brother to find his bride, who you also kidnapped from the dance floor. You brought them both to the chillier December atmosphere of the balcony.

'Everything okay?' B/F asked.

You produced the twinned locket from the tresses of your gown. With an almost bouncing excitement, you presented it to them.

Inquisitevly, the couple took a half each and inspected the joint broken hearts. Recogition only seemed to strike your brother's face, his eyes shot up to you in shock, 'Grandma Via?'

You nodded enthusiastically. You explained for B/F's benefit, 'Grams was a spinster, alright? Weaving endless incredible and over-the-top tales. Full of joyous lies, that woman.'

'But,' your brother delicately inspected the untainted gold, a nostalgia staning his tone. 'There was one story that she never lied about.'

'I remember!' B/F grabbed her husband's elbow. 'You said that it was your favourite thing about her.'

You said, 'She always said that this shall go to Seth and his future bride—'

'I never thought I'd see it again,' he teared up, and pride swelled in you. There were identical smiles tugging on both of your faces.

You had had to pull some strings for it, calling in some extra favours.

Since your transfer had been announced, the wedding had been preponed to today. Your parents had been disappointed because it meant adjusting their tough schedules, but Seth and B/F had insisted - they opted for less festivities just so you would be able to attend.

You weren't supposed to go above and beyond for anyone, attachments were often the reasons why good Leaders were lost but . . . this is your brother.

If you hadn't been leaving, you would have given him normal stuff like a new castle or maybe a new town or maybe honeymoon resort. But since you were leaving, you also needed your present to double as a parting gift.

'You've always wanted it,' you smirked. Your grandmother had been buried, dead a few months after your grandfather's untimely demise during a mission. You and Seth had been too young for the adults to divulge where. Yet, you had pulled many records to unearth her and found the last remaining symbol of her love.

'Didn't she say that the locket helped them both when the Leadership got tough?' B/F asked. 'It was gifted to them by a Cupid itself, a symbol of their unforgettable love, or something. Some soulmate deal.'

Seth wrapped a hand around your best friend, pulling her closer as he tested the magnet on the two halves of the heart. It fit into place with a beautiful click. There was a certain ethereal glow to it, and before your eyes you saw the shine pass on to the newlyweds. You don't think they realised it, but they were practically, suddenly, heart-eyeing each other even more than they were before.

'I even made space for your photos,' you added. 'Grams used to say that these hearts are magical and they bless that union whose photos are in it.'

'Never knew you to be a romanic, Y/N,' B/F laughed, breaking from the spell; she pulled you into a hug that you begrudgingly returned. Over her shoulder, your brother gratefully nodded at you - like you, he hated close contact. You had rarely seen him engage in any public displays of affection, sans for B/F, even if he was much more emotional than you were.

'I'm not,' you said, pulling away. 'Your husband is, that's why you are getting the pendant.'

'We didn't get you anything,' Seth said. For your birthday, he meant. He and B/F had been so busy preparing for a wedding that was shifted ahead of time for you; that had been gift enough.

You waved him off, teasing, 'Get me something when I get married.'

It wasn't like gifts were a large part of your world, anyway. There weren't shops ladden with these materialistic items that were up for trade - you had heard that that was a concept in some other Universes, you'd obviously never seen it yourself though.

'You literally plan never to,' B/F swatted your arm, seeing through your lopphole.

You changed the topic smoothly, 'What, a woman can't be self-sufficient?'

If you were prone to sea-sickness, now would be the most terrible time to find out. Already, your gut churned with nervous energy; without the sounds and the music of the wedding to keep out the self-doubting thoughts, you were holding onto your composure by a thread.

Soldiers under the careful command of your team were passing by you, bowing as they crossed you before they could clamber aboard the pirate ship your parents had hired. Twice, you had to diffuse the situation on the ship - huge fights barely stopped from breaking out between the humans and the vampires. You had come back down after to fix your gaze on the horizon where you were expecting someone.

Weapons, cars and food - all essentials were loaded. Plus, the promised bloodbags that was the payment to the pirates in exchange for the "safe" travel.

Sea was the monster territory; unfortunately for humans, they had to use the assist of these monsters to travel overseas. That's why the Firstborns were the Leaders of the country they were born in, while the other children were far more expendible. Not that the Firstborns never travelled, but their exposure to sea was minimal - during Half-Yearly meetings for instance.

Minutes ticked by, everything was accomodated and accounted for. The pirates had given their deadline for sailing: when the clock struck twelve.

'Lady Y/N,' your medic called. Selina trudged down the shaky plank that adjoined the port to the large ship. 'It's five to midnight. The pirates demand we leave. Won't wait a second longer than they have to.'

You offered her your hand when you noticed she was glancing at the sea way below with scepticism. Your hands folded before you once more when she was safely by your side.

'I'm waiting for my parents,' you informed steadily. You wouldn't show weakness so near a pirate ship, open enough for any vampire to spot, but your heart was tremoring in your chest. 'They must be on their way to say goodbye.'

Your teammate froze next to you. 'Oh, you're waiting for that.'

A sinking feeling attacked you. You kept your face from falling. 'Is there something you need to tell me, Ms Doll?'

She flinched. 'Um, Lord Sen was talking,' (the gay gossiper), 'I don't even know if it's accurate.'

'What?'

'Your parents were briefly seen at the wedding; after greeting Lord and Lady L/N, they excused themselves for a party due North.'

'Oh.' Even if you managed to keep your disappointment out of your face, you couldn't keep it from your voice.

'I thought you knew,' she helplessly said.

Your smile was tight as you tried not to grouch about how the gossiper knew before you did, one of the many times where the news had flown around because of him, and had reached you by word of mouth through many middle persons.

'Well, thank you for telling me,' you softly answered. 'Let's board. No point wishing for goodbyes, eh?'

Before she could utter any comfort, the warning bell of the ship went off. Three minutes to departure.

You supported your friend up the unsteady plank, balancing yourself much better. You let the grumpy crewmen retract the piece of rickety wood up. You brushed yourself once, and checked yourself for signs of damage to your large puffy gown.

'Almost thought you wouldn't make it,' a southern drawl said.

Sharply twisting on the points of your long heels, you were faced with the Captain of the ship. You knew because he was wearing a captain's hat, and had a smirk to match the cockiness that came with such a job.

You nodded at Selina to go ahead.

'Hello, cheri. Name's Benjamin Lafitte Roy, the Captain of the Bloody Princess.' The man before you seemed nothing out of the oridinary, but you knew from experience that he would be of superior strength, speed, senses and agility than an average human.

You shook his hand professionally. 'Pleasure. Leader Y/N L/N of Europe, as of midnight,' you nodded to the watch he was wearing. The ship had started it's course, you noticed, right on time. Your people were disappearing down the stairs and into the lower levels this travel ship had arranged for you.

The crew members were working around with ropes that made no sense to you, and shouting orders you had never heard before. Even then, you subtly checked their weapons to gauge the amount of threat they would actually pose if things came down to the worse possible scenario; already, you noticed some vampires sneering in the direction of your soldiers, who were gritting back in defiance.

Mr Lafitte tilted his head, 'Never heard of you before. Aren't you humans supposed to toot your own horns?'

Bemusment crinkled the edges of your eyes in a challenging smile. 'I've never heard of you either. And if humans need to publicise ourselves, monsters don't. Your reputation should have far exceeded our meeting, Mr Laffite.'

'Captain,' he snapped. 'Discretion comes with the trade; we ain't stupid enough to blow our own covers like your faction does.'

Your hands interlocked. 'Exactly. You have your strengths, Captain. So don't judge before you see mine.'

'Y'ain't trying to make enemies, are ya?' he stepped closer so that he could intimidate you with his height. But your heels left little difference, giving you the added advantage of a sharp point if you felt the need to do some serious damage.

'We have a straightforward barter between food and travel,' you said instead. 'But if we add the sub-clause of peace, I believe our journey might be much more pleasant,' you stated. 'Would you agree to leave my people alone if I leave yours?'

He sized you up; your elbows to your sides, standing upright as if you had a rod for a spine and stiff as a doll in packaged box that used to be sold way back when the world wasn't as shitty. Benny had seen dolls like those, and he had seen hunters like you. He judged your cocky undertone well.

'You think we can't take you?' he asked, angered by your audacity.

You smiled. 'Some of us, maybe - the sea is your territory. However, the war is my domain, Captain Lafitte. I suggest if you wish to survive, you shouldn't make enemies out of some of the best trained survivalists.'

When he didn't respond for he was fuming, you took that as a win.

'Do we have a deal?' you "innocently" took your hand out for a shake again.

The encounter with the ship's Captain left you reeling. Your heart had been hammering the entire time, but it was what you had been taught to do. It's what you had trained for your entire life. 

A scurvy vampire showed you downstairs, on the lower deck. Even if the teeth you saw on this vampire were rotten, you knew that there would be another set just itching to descend on you. 

You politely thanked him when he stopped before the last door in the corridor. There were five in total: a captain's room, a kitchen, a servant's quarter, and a bathroom, the last room was where they kept their "weapons", or so is what they told the other ships when they wanted to guise the fact that they were illegally transporting humans from one continent to another. 

For most of the travel, this would be the room where you would spend your time, with your team and the newly recruited soldiers. The stairs were weak, creaky, and dimly lit, your climb down was based on your reflexive memory. When you stepped down to the levelled ground, indeed, the room was filled with weapons; heaps and piles, disordered and crustily bloodstained. 

Your nose scrunched in disgust. The perfectionist in you decided they would need cleaning first thing in the morning. 

For now, you crossed the room, counting the tiles against the back walls - three to the right, and then the one diagonal. Your heel tapped lightly against the tile that wobbled under your foot.  A moment later, the loose tile was pushed up and out, to the side. You peered down to see Boa, your bodygaurd shimmying down the ladder rungs and disappearing into the room.

You held back a sigh and manuvered yourself into a position that wouldn't make you fall face-first inside, a horrible first impression for the first time that you would be seeing the whole of your troops. It was an effort not to huff as you carefully lowered yourself, still in the dress from the wedding. Still in need of a shower since that morning when you went grave-digging, and ever since you'd been sweating a lot. 

When you turned, you almost had a heart attack. 

'SURPRISE!' was the large yell, interspersed with a few shouts of 'Happy Birthday!'

You hadn't screamed out of sheer stubbornness, but your eyes were wide enough to pop out of your sockets. Your hands had pointed your weapon at the crowd who had ducked with a collective small yelp.

'My, my! I did not expect that,' you replaced your Glock in your thigh holster from the almost invisible slit to your gown. You administered a deep breath so that your galloping heart. 'Though let that be a warning to not scare me again.'

'Oh, lighten up, mate!' Baz, Boa's twin brother laughed. 'Not every day you turn twenty-five!'

There were murmurs of agreement around the room. You finally noticed the small dessert feast that they had laid out in one corner of the room on a table that looked it had a lot going on. It was brimming with different English cakes, muffins, and pastries. A small counter for alcohol had also been set up next to it. The rest of the food boxes were packed still, lining against one wall because everyone had come from the wedding and must be too tired to unpack it immediately. You were surprised anyone had space for food in their tummies at all. 

You found yourself smiling despite yourself, a light blush dusting your cheeks at their thoughtful gesture. 'All right. But just for tonight. I can party, I suppose.' You were confident you wouldn't enjoy it, but they didn't have to know that.

There was a slight uproar of cheers, as the crowd fanned out, and started chattering excitedly about Europe, sharing tea cakes and blueberry muffins. The recruited soldiers were all considerably new, picked out only a few weeks prior; you hoped this party might be an opportunity for them to bond. 

Your eyes were bleary from the lack of sleep. You hadn't slept for more than six hours in the last two days, even if most of your work had been done. You'd spent the early mornings when you woke up anxiously, pacing around your room and overthinking about your time oncoming in Europe. 

After the wedding, your feet were killing you, and you had been ready to fall right into the first sleeping bag offered to you, but with this party, you might have to stay awake longer. Not to mention, make rounds. It would be rude on your part to not greet every person in the room personally - in fact, it would bug you if you didn't. It wouldn't be very royal of you if you didn't thank one and all. 

Deciding to gobble a beverage so that you don't seem like a damn sleepwalker, you started your grateful journey with the bartender. You waited behind two teenagers who were bouncing on their feet as the bartender served them with young people juice. 

When it was your turn, you noticed the man behind the counter swallow nervously. 'Lady Y/N. Your M-Majesty? Um, what would yo—?'

'Please, be at ease,' you said, treating him to a friendly smile. 'Would you have anything that has a lot of sugar and caffeine, Mr . . . ?'

'Jay Meg,' he said. 'Uh, how about a coffee?'

You pursed your lips. 'I suppose.'

'Or maybe you would like something laced with vodka or rum?' he read your mood. 'Maybe an energy drink.'

You perked up at the thought of something colder. Your dress was sticking to your legs, the tight fit of the upper bodice wasn't any less suffocating. Add that to the stale air that this lower level had, you would be sure to find your skin sticky later. The least you could do was have something to cool off. 

'. . . If that isn't an imposition,' you said. Despite your needs, you weren't about to disappoint anyone in this room on your first day by saying no. 'An energy drink, please,' you requested, knowing that alcohol was still temporarily banned for you.

'Coming right up!' the man expertly launched into a mixing process, embracing his element, and relaxing before you.

He was a short man with dark skin tones possessing a bright smile and a fit body. He pointed out his wife and daughter to you, both old enough that they also constituted your army, both of them laughing around a woman who had collected a crowd of few and was describing ridiculous, yet beautiful tales of valor to them, steepling it with a sense of humour that often caused them to dissolve into giggles. 

You paid rapt attention to him, ending the conversation with him by expressing your gratitude. He was bashful in accepting your compliment. 

You continued this process with a few more people. Listening to new stories, storing their names in your mind, linking their families, observing their strengths and weaknesses. It was so usual for you that you almost forgot about the weariness of your body. You did, however, remove yourself from your heels. You had worn it for over twenty hours already, any more would probably have killed you. You tried not to grimace when your feet carried you all over the wet-and-dry shipboards, some covered in mossy patches that you avoided. 

It was nearing four o'clock in the morning when the party finally died down. You were on your fifth energy drink but even that seemed to have evaporated from your system.

Most of the people had slumbered away into bags that were now cramped all over the floor, leaving only a few feet of space to walk in between. The remaining few you had already talked to; these people were either on duty guards or were now playing a quiet game or two before they would slink off as well.

You wanted to follow suit and not wake up for years, but you needed to change. And you really needed that shower. 

So when the last person, except the guards, had gone off to sleep, you pulled yourself up the ladder, and into the single bathroom that was available for everyone aboard. It was lucky, you guessed, that all ships came in-built with bathrooms because the vampires didn't even use them. On this ship, it was only operational for the humans they smuggled. 

The menial job of cleaning yourself was laborious and seemed to take hours. In reality, it was only minutes when you stepped out, cleaning after yourself for the next person so that no one would feel disgusted later. 

You greeted the guards on your way down, smiling much better than you felt. You were quietly lowering yourself into the lowest level of the ship; your eyes greedily eyeing the sleeping bag on the other end of the room meant for you, surrounded by the sleeping bags of your team.

You could already make out Sal's silhouette whispering furiously in his phone. He was prone to calls like these, mostly in the middle of the night - like he had a secret to hide and protect. It didn't bug you as much as it probably should because he had been from your Father's lab - he was safe, just like all the other humans on the ship.

A hand came out of the shadows and gripped your shoulder, making you leap in fright, and turn, once again with your gun towards the culprit. 

A chuckle, followed by the person stepping into the lights that came from one of the small lamps that had been hung equidistantly from another, revealing your PR woman. 

'Would people quit doing that?' you hissed. 'Mrs Stun, I could've shot you!'

'But you didn't. That's what makes you so great,' Lay buttered you up.

'Don't make me change my mind about shooting you,' you growled. Lay was one of the few people who you could freely threaten. She had a hard shell, if anything, she loved your sarcastic snides - she said that they made you more human, whatever that meant.

As predicted, she snorted. 'Right. Forgot that you don't like praises. All right, then, shall we get to business?'

'But I was about to sleep,' your voice bordered on a whine. 

She sympathetically said, 'I'll make this quick.'

She dragged you back up, and into the blissfully empty kitchen. Because you were so exhausted, it took you a moment to realize why - the vampires don't eat. Your authoritative brain reminded you that you would have to schedule shifts for kitchen duty for that same reason, just having food in boxes wasn't going to help anyone. 

'All right,' she crossed her arms, after making sure that no monster lurked in any dark shadows. Her eyes sharpened. 'I heard what you said to Benny earlier in the night.'

You raked a hand in your hair. Your other hand came to rub your face, only you were still holding the gun so the cold hard surface supported your head instead. 

No one was supposed to hear it. But Lay had eyes and ears everywhere.

You sighed against the barrel, 'What do you want me to say? I'm not sorry to have set our boundaries straight.'

She put her hands on her hips, her nervous tell. 'Just felt like you got overconfident. I'm not sure if that was the best move, diplomatically speaking.'

Your hands fell to your side and you assessed the fear in her body language. She shuffled under your piercing e/cs. Your compassion for her rose, 'I know you're not a hunter, but I know how to treat a monster. You have to let them know that you're not weak, and you have to let them know you've got nothing to lose.'

She rolled her eyes defiantly. 'Maybe you don't.'

Your jaw clenched but you let that slide when your eyes noticed her fingers fidgeting with her wedding ring. It wasn't like you understood what that felt like, but you knew what being responsible for people on hunts was like.

'You can't let them know your weakness,' you said, ignoring her previous jab. 'Besides, our ultimate purpose is the good of humanity. Or at least, mine is. I can't expect you to stop loving your family, but I know I'll be prioritizing the good of our faction, over just the handful of us.'

She knew your personal sets of values and agendas loud and clear. Hell, she set them in the first place; you'd uttered them countless times in front of the media and parties. You'd sold that motto to others so often and meant it.

So even if these people were at your disposal, you were at the world's disposal, and you wouldn't refrain from admitting that you would care about the world's greater good far more than the people in your vicinity. 

Lay took a deep breath. 'You're right, okay? I just, I worry sometimes.'

'I'm glad you shared it with me,' you said. 'Will be that be all?'

She gathered her thoughts. 'I would just like to request a small Ball for the Winchesters.'

Your brows furrowed. 'I didn't know we needed to interact with them.'

Except for marriages, the Leaders never worked together, sometimes not even then. There was an unseen boundary in the land, marking separate territories. Even you would only be working in Europe temporarily until Dean Winchester would get himself a bride who would be fitter for the position. Secondborns, may it be male or female, never got a preference in case of marriage of the Firstborn that was already ruling the continent. You were essentially just a fail-safe. 

In case both Leaders were Firstborn, then, the male would get a preference. As in, if the male of the two Leaders were to marry, then, that married couple would lead. The Firstborn female Leader would have to retire. 

And if both the Leaders were male and firstborn, then the whole point of married women ruling ran moot. 

You didn't see why, for that reason, you would have to interact with the Winchesters at all. 

'Your mother thinks that it would do you good to make contacts—'

'You met her?' you cut Lay off. 

'Last night,' she guiltily admitted. 'When she heard about Jessica Winchester visiting—'

You scoffed, 'She wants me to throw the Ball for prospective marriage alliances!' The welcoming of Jessica Winchester as a fellow Leader would just be a ruse, you saw that political play, a ruse to invite several nobles and young ex-Leaders, plus, even a few current Leaders. 

You didn't disagree about a lot of things with your mother, but marriage was one of them. You had announced long back that you would never submit your life to a man. Not in this men-run world where your respect would forever be overshadowed by the man you married. But your mother refused to bow down to your one plea.

There were barely any good men, as is. Your brother was very few of them. As happy as you were for your best friend and your brother to have found each other in this Godforsaken universe, far be it for you to follow in their footsteps. 

'She just wants to make sure that you are looked for after your retirement.'

It bruised your heart to think that. Even if Lay had rephrased it to make it sound like a good idea, it only served to remind you that your mother never planned to have you back in America. Your parents wouldn't accept what another continent discards - even if your retirement is dignified, they would never allow you to return to your old home and disgrace them in the hunter's community. 

'Right,' you gritted. 'Fine, Mrs Stun. Be that as it may, don't hope that I shall pick a man. It would be just for mother's satisfaction.'

With your nose in the air, you stormed out. 

You only saw the Captain again that evening, in his office. You had crashed hard that morning and slept well into the late afternoon, after which you arranged for a meeting with Benjamin. He met you in an hour of your notice.

Resuming a seat opposite the vampire, you rested one knee over the other and comfortably leaned back in your chair, a faux presence of confidence on your countenance. You were holding a mug from the kitchens that Selina had prepared for you, it rested atop your knee, waiting to be given.

'Thank you for seeing me, Captain Lafitte,' you said. 'I didn't think you would have after yesterday.'

'Can't say no on someone's birthday,' he sarcastically said. 'My men are very unhappy by the ruckus you lot fathered.'

'In our world, nothing tickles us unless it's chaos,' you grinned as if you'd been the life of the party. 'I'm sure you agree.'

He kept a plaintive look on his face, unhappy with you in general.

'I wanted a few travel details,' you said, cutting to the chase when he lacked a similar enthusiasm.

'What about?' he asked, lacing his hands formally on the dirty desk.

'We didn't speak directly to you when booking your services—'

Your parents had arranged the medium of travelling for you. Lay barely could scrape any information because no one had bothered to answer all the appropriate details.

When you probed your father, he simply advised to be prepared for everything like a good Leader should be. It was actually the last conversation you had had with him. Three months ago.

'Trading,' he growled, cutting you off. 'We don't serve you.'

You had the decency to backtrack, 'I got carried away in a manner of speaking.' You continued, 'I wish to have a few questions answered, is all.'

He stared blankly at you, hints of irritation making him tap his foot under the table - you could hear the wooden tiles creaking under the weight of his rough boots.

'How many days will it take?' you said.

'Eleven or sixteen. Relies on the moods of the sea.'

'Will there be any check posts?' you said. 'Any tolls? Or any tributes along the way.'

'No. But there'll be ships. All monsters, and they better not see you.'

'You won't be offering us protection?'

He raised a brow. 'Can't you do it for yourself?'

You smiled coldly, 'Of course. Just asking, Captain. Any particular ships we should be worried about in the near future?'

'If you're not ready for them all, I don't see why we're shiping you to be a Leader, Ms L/N.'

Your jaw clenched. 'How many vampires are on your ship?' you fired another question.

'How is this relevant?' he didn't seem to want to co-operate anymore.

'Don't pretend you didn't count my people,' your lips curled to mimic a snarl, you icily stared him down. 'Do you want us on your good side or not?'

He held your e/c eyes for a long time before he relented with a long exhale. 'Thirty-six. And we protect our own in time of crisis.'

'Seems fair,' you said. 'What can you tell me about Jessica Winchester?'

He had to hold back his surprise when you flipped the talk somewhere else entirely. 'What?'

'Enemies keep closer tabs than friends do,' you waved your hand. 'Winchesters are known for creating ripples; if anyone, your lot might know of them.'

His lips thinned into the thinnest line you'd seen on him yet. You almost expected him to stroke his scruff in thought, but you noticed his hands tightening instead.

'Why would I tell you?' he said, slow, calculating.

You felt the reason would have been obvious. 'Dean Winchester kills his own. I hardly need point out how we may need each other's help if he gets out of hand. And now, conspiring with his family behind the backs of the fellow Leaders?'

Benny was in disbelief of you. He shook his head, finally. 'Gettin' a little ahead of yourself, aren't you, cheri?' he said, his expression grim. 'I'm not going to be caught dead doing your dirty work.'

There was a tendril of fear you saw in his eyes. He was scared, you realised of the almighty Winchesters. Disappointed, you puckered your lips, switching tactics.

You placed the cup before you, sliding it across the rough surface of the unkept wooden desk. 'Peace offering?'

He glanced at the dark liquid that he had thought had contained your alcohol previously, yet he hadn't seen you take a sip from it. Suspicions rose high in his head - suddenly, you were giving him a truce? After he refused you information?

'Dead man's blood?'

You brought a dart gun out of your holster that had been strapped to your belt. Your movements were easier now that you had been rid of the puffy gown. You were wearing a normal pair of jeans and a loose top. You still had your heels, but that was only because your parents had never allowed you to buy anything else - your height wasn't your best feature, as they'd pointed out several times. You surrendered the gun to the table, although the barrel pointed towards the vampire.

'I would shoot you in the heart if I had to.' You nodded at the mug in between the two of you. 'That's just good old bloody whiskey. Emphasis on the blood.'

It would explain why you didn't take a pull from it, but you were asking something next to impossible from him - you were asking him for trust. He took the glass closer to him, placing it at the edge of his side of the table, that way, he wasn't rude, and if it fell, it won't be his problem. Between his weak scruff, you could see his frown. 'What are you playing at?'

'I'm loyal,' you shrugged, vague. 'You can trust me.'

'Everything is fair love and war, isn't it?' his insinuation was clear; he was still sulking about your attitude since last night.

'I realize we didn't get off on the best foot,' you conceded, a little. 'But I get what I want, Captain. And I don't want betrayal, from my side or anyone else's.'

'Is that supposed to be a fucking comfort?' he groused, tired of your haywire words.

'I'm very straightforward for a diplomat, I'm sure you've realized,' you baited.

'Look, we made a deal. I drop you to the other side, and we're through. I ain't in the mood for your fucking games. Keep out of my business and I'll be sure to do so from yours,' he leaned in closer to the table to drive the intensity of his words home.

'That's not what I want,' you said.

'I don't care what you want!' his hand slapped on the wood and the mug shattered in a crash, the bedeviled drink spreading on the ground, and some soaking into the wooden planks that made the floor. Your nose gave a minuscule crinkle, a need for cleanliness arising in your brain, but you resisted breaking from your argument.

You sighed through your nose. 'I'm sure you'll care for an island, however.'

It made him pause. 'Excuse me?'

You curled your hands against one another as you so often did, part of being a royal, and you smiled a little. 'So far, we've traded food for travel, and peace for peace. You say that this journey might be over two weeks; to maintain the morale and productivity of my faction, I want to strike the bargain for an island in return of . . . say, a crash course?'

Befuddled and intrigued, 'Crash course?'

'I figured you've never stepped on land; my people have never taken advantage of water. There's an island called Lastovo in Croatia with your name on it, for when your sails want to rest - if you teach my kind how to make boats and other aquatic surviving facilities out of scraps.'

Benny seemed genuinely disarmed at the proposal. He had never met a human who would be crazy enough to offer a piece of land to a band of monsters. He hadn't even heard of such craziness before, and he had been immortal for a while.

'What's the catch?' he sceptically measured you up, looking for a sign to call you out. Your face was impossible to read, a smooth mask of cockiness, and eyes so fearless, as if they'd never seen or felt a proper loss before.

You shrugged, once again giving a warped reply. 'When I asserted my power, I was just letting you know that we're a match for you, Captain - if that's what's stopping you from making this deal.'

'I don't trust you,' Benny said. How were you not getting it? How were you so callously offering land to monsters? How were you sitting so enjoyably in front of the vampire you threatened just last night?

He was both bewildered and affronted at your callous attitude. He could hear your heightened heartbeat, which was the only indicator that there was as much mistrust from your end as it was from his - but you must be one of those fucking adrenaline junkies to be still conducting your manner so politely.

He searched your simple eyes where he could detect no hint of emotion - even in his own heartless vampires, he would notice more than you - they had anger, they had pain, they had happiness. Or ego, at least.

But the death in your expression was a bit chilling, and this was coming from a hundred-year-old vampire.

Indeed, he had seen a lot of Leaders. Somehow, you were scaring him more. Somehow, he hated you the most.

'Another good reason, eh?' you chirped up. 'For bonding, I mean. This crash course can help all of us.'

His teeth ground in annoyance. 'You're mad.'

You blinked. Finally, Benny could see the underlying human in you who was surprised, angered, and entertained by his comment. He could see the ego of a seasoned huntress. And then he saw your humanity disappear again, a mask shifting into place with a practiced twitch of your face.

'Is that a yes?' you stood up, persistent beyond belief.

'If other ships spot you, you'll be dead within minutes. And our ship'll be crippled—'

'Are you scared?' you said, smirking in a way that made him want to kill you.

His eyes darted to the extending blood that was racing towards your feet because of the heady sway that came to the ship from the sea. It was bad blood growing between the two of you, bringing the metaphor to life - and it gave Benny an idea.

'Let your men be ready at five,' he said.

You beamed at him in agreement. You re-palmed your gun, at which Benny tensed, but then you tucked it back into its holding place. 'Always a pleasure doing business,' you said, parting from the room.

Benny grabbed a bowl from the nearby shelf and extracted a half-drunk blood bag from his desk drawer that almost fell on his leg when he hurriedly opened it. Spilling most of the blood into the bowl, he placed a call to his creator. It was usually only a demon's way of communicating, but since the humans had started gaining more power than they were due very recently, small allegiances had also started to branch out amongst the other factions, unbeknownst to your kind.

First, Seth L/N had slaughtered Raphael. Bobby Singer and Rufus Turner had killed most of the Monster Alphas. The now B/F L/N had conquered Metatron, a mad angel activist. Joana Harvelle had left a chain of murders of the succession of the Kings of Hell, most recently her victim had been Abaddon, who she'd murdered with the help of a Dean fucking Winchester. This last man who also ended up slaying the Darkness.

If Benny's instincts were right, which they usually were, it could not be a coincidence that a sociopath like you was headed to Europe at this time - perhaps, to fill in as the last piece . . .

When he sensed that the other line had accepted, he announced the dreaded news.

'I have the last Leader of the prophecy in my sights, Chief. It's the Birthday Girl.'

A/N: Birthdays can be so stressful sometimes. Phew 😮‍💨!

Also, Happy New Year, you guys - to those who celebrate 🙃❤️! Thought I'd begin my year with this chapter blast, hehe. Lemme know what you thought of it!

Tag List.

@hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @globetrotter28

[sincosma]

Regarding Hurricane Helene and those who didn't evacuate

I don't often make huge posts like this, but as someone who has been involved in the emergency response to Hurricane Helene, I have some things to get off my chest.

I am in total shock at the damage Helene did to my area (the Tampa Bay area). Over 8 feet of storm surge, never before seen here, has completely destroyed iconic and vital parts of my community. The storm stayed 100 miles offshore from us but managed this level of devastation. Then, seeing the catastrophic levels of damage for the folks in Taylor County and the Big Bend area, as well as everyone in the South... it's hard to comprehend.

I work in government, so I've been on call the past few days for storm updates. I'm so tired and overwhelmed by the pictures and videos I'm seeing. Last night, I saw posts of people in my area begging for rescue with several feet of water or more in their homes. There are still people awaiting rescue right now. We have 5 confirmed fatalities in my county as of now, all due to storm surge.

With all that said, I'm making this post for a specific reason. I'm seeing a lot of people say, "They were in a mandatory evacuation zone, so it's their own fault for staying and risking their lives," or, worst of all, "emergency services shouldn't help people who were dumb enough to stay."

Quite literally, from the bottom of my heart, go fuck yourself.

You do not understand the immense challenges many people face when mandatory evacuations are called. People with disabilities, the elderly, unhoused individuals, people experiencing poverty, non-English speaking communities, and many other vulnerable populations cannot simply get up and go. Were there people who could've evacuated but didn't because they were being stubborn or flippant? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean these people suddenly lose their human rights because they made a mistake or froze up in fear or could not evacuate for a million different reasons. They still deserve help and understanding.

If you don't live in hurricane-prone areas, you will never fully understand the scope of these impacts, the complacency some people get from repeated storms, the limitations of evacuation resources, and the thousands of obstacles people face when they need to evacuate. Sure, YOU think it would be EASY to pack up and go, but that's often not a reality for many people who are living with disabilities, poverty, abusive situations, etc. The list goes on and on.

I'm honestly horrified by the levels of superiority and callousness with which some people are reacting to pictures and videos of the storm impacts. I usually see some of it every time a major storm occurs, but it seems especially prevalent this time around.

Keep your opinions about evacuations, and your judgment towards those who chose to stay, to yourself.

Hope everyone else affected is hanging in there. <3

[zeynyukine3011]

Hi! I want to get to Damian Wayne better. So could you recommend me what comics, or issues, to read? If it’s not an inconvenience. Thanks! (My English is not so good, sorry)

Hello!!!! It's not an inconvenience, I'd like to help ^^

Damian first appeared in Batman #655. But his character wasn't fleshed out. He was there to be a rich spoiled kid who annoys everyone.

But thanks to Patrick Gleason and Peter Tomasi, Damian's character evolved.

So you should definitely read Batman and Robin (2011), Robin:Son of Batman. These two are a MUST read for every Damian fan.

After that there is of course iconic Supersons. First Supersons, then The Adventures of the Supersons, and The Challenge of the Supersons.

You can read Batman and Robin (2009) too. It's where Dick is Batman and Damian is his Robin.

Besides those, my favourite is DC vs. Vampires. Damian is a major character in this and he is written well and he is a badass.

My another favourite is Dark Nights: Metal. He is written good here too.

I don't recommend reading his second team in Teen Titans (2016). He was first teams with Raven, Beast Boy, Starfire, Kid Flash, and Aqualad a while. It wasn't bad but canonically most of them should've been adults.

His second Teen Titans team was horrible. That comic absolutely ruined Damian's character. Don't read!

Then there is Robin (2021). It wasn't as bad as it could've been but it wasn't perfect either. Joshua Williamson tried to fix Damian's character after Adam Glass butchered it in Teen Titans. Was he successful? That's controversial. He mostly focused on his OCs so it wasn't much about Damian. But I think it is worth to read.

There is ongoing Batman and Robin (2023) by Joshua Williamson. At least he is not written as a villain in this but Williamson is writing him sooo boring. Damian was an unique and interesting character who wasn't like typical teenage heroes. But Williamson is making him a stereotypical teenager. It's boring 😐

Then there is brand new Boy Wonder! There is only one issue so far but it's looks really good for now. I hope they don't ruin it 🫠

Then there is Batman vs. Robin (2023) but it's not good, unfortunately. Damian is not written well and the only interaction we have between Bruce and Damian is just Bruce bad-mouthing him and saying every bad qualities of Damian. You can read if you want. I leave it to your judgement.

For every comic and issue Damian had appeared you can see this from this link.

[saintmuses]

❝𝙝𝙪𝙨𝙝, 𝙄 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙧❞

Pairing:

Lenny Miller x Reader

Summary:

She never got to marry, or bear children, or have a house with a white picket fence. She never got to grow old either. Even in death, she would never be able to escape from the man who loved her a little too much.

Warning(s): Death. Implied murder. Angst. Implied toxic relationship. Age gap (10 years apart between Reader and Lenny). Major power imbalance. Dark!Lenny. Minors, dni! Note: I was trying to make this something that you would read from a non-fiction crime book which includes many characters from Anna so it does not feel personal. Reader is a Russian American in this one. Also the switch between ‘Leonard’ and ‘Lenny’ is intentional. The title is from Mirrorball because I thought it was fitting of how it refers to the end of something, therefore the end of one’s life as they know it.

Word Count: 3.3k

1995

"It was something I would do, but I would've never expected her to do it. She and I were very different in that sense." Anna Poliatova, her best friend from childhood days murmured softly, her accent curled around the letters as she sat down in a chair for the interview regarding the crime documentary. She had eyes that were colored like the sky, and platinum hair, straight as spineless grass in the plains.

"1990 was something for her," she then laughed. "She met someone I never even knew about, but I found out in her diary of an early 1990 entry of a man named Leonard Miller."

April 16, 1990

Dear Diary,

When you meet someone, how would you picture meeting someone? One day, they would be a stranger to you, but they could be everything but a stranger tomorrow.

I didn't expect to meet Leonard Miller yesterday, but everyone knew of him. 

I mean he is an agent handler for Central Intelligence Agency, his reputation precedes him everywhere he goes in that workplace. What attracted me to him right away was how he eluded power and raw presence. He commanded attention as soon as he walked into the room. I had to talk to him because of my job; I’ve been assigned as a secretary for the director of CIA.

The day before, you would be doing something so mundane, right up to the moment, and that was when everything changed. I haven't felt this way in a long time, like a schoolgirl's crush on a man who is very handsome, but very off-limits. There’s a workplace code set in place for something like this. My brain had to remind myself that we cannot be more than just co-workers, no fraternizing around, but my heart didn't care.

I was never supposed to be that person.

Never.

Y/N.V.

Y/N Vasilisa—Love to those close to her due to the meaning of her last name—was born in New York in 1966 to her parents Arseni Vasiliy and Janet O’Conner.

Aurora, New York was a town where families would bloom while the others faded.

Arseni Vasiliy was born in Moscow, USSR, and migrated to America when he was nineteen and met a girl from a town over, then fell in love with her. They were married in 1964, two years before Y/N was born. "She kept him on his toes, and they made the marriage work. They had good years," his friend recalled, a brief appearance. "Really good years."

Janet, her mother was very protective of Y/N, perhaps because she was the baby, the only child of the family. They were close, close as best friends could've been.

The Vasiliys were the poster child of what family should really look like. It was a small family, but it was home.

Y/N met Anna Poliatovia in English class when she was a teenager. She came to America as a foreign exchange student from Soviet Union program. They were the duo that every girl was jealous of, and every guy wished they would've gotten together with.

Y/N Vasilisa was an honor student, had perfect grades all four years of high school, and became a valedictorian for her class.

Everything had changed a month before her graduation in 1984. Her parents died in a tragic car accident. Their slow but terrible deaths were caused by fire when a drunken driver of semi-truck crashed into them.

She moved to New York City after she graduated from high school, wanting to get away from the town that used to be so kind to her.

In a utopia world, no one would die. In the real world, parents weren’t supposed to bury their children. In a twisted sense, they made the natural order of death happen. Y/N had to bury them at eighteen.

She went to a community college while working for a company as a secretary during the week, and she would complete double shifts as a waitress at a restaurant on the weekends to be able to afford an apartment she lived in.

As Y/N struggled to make the ends meet, Leonard Miller was on his way to becoming an operative for CIA.

Leonard’s father was born in Europe in 1928, but his family moved to America specifically Hawaii in 1935, although it was not a part of fifty stars for another few decades. When his father was twenty-one, he met his wife at a shore, and they were married before finding a job as a constructor while his wife was a housewife and a mother of four children.

Elizabeth was the first and only daughter that was welcomed to the world in 1951, John was born two years later, then it was Leonard and Maxwell after that.

The family experienced a devastating loss when the patriarch of the family died of a heart attack at the age of fifty-three in February 1981, leaving his wife, children, and grand-children behind.

While the women of the family were soft-spoken, soft hearted; the men were stolid, hardworking, and they set their minds to succeed in America.

All men but one worked for a construction company that their father built with his partner. The company became Miller and Co. when it thrived in Pearl City, and the boys except one joined.

The third child of the family did not want to work for the construction company, opting to make a path for himself.

Leonard -Lenny for short- was born in 1956, the third child, but second boy in the family. He had dark brown hair, icy blue eyes so piercing that someone would feel like he was looking into their soul. He did almost everything first, he was not only an honor student, but he was also undeniably his parents' favorite son out of four children. He was hardworking and disciplined like his father, quiet and conservative like his mother.

John and Maxwell, his brothers were the opposite of it. They were the life of the party, the charmers who could work a room full of strangers and leave with a bunch of friends.

They were very much loved by their parents despite the differences in all of them.

To them, Leonard was the good brother. The one who could give dependable advice. To school, he was quite unattainable. Polite, friendly, only mingling when he had to, but he knew how to have fun as well.

When he was eighteen, he graduated from high school in 1974, and enlisted in military. It was there he was recruited to become an CIA operative thus moving to Washington DC to be close to Langley.

Despite being the second oldest brother, he did take over the proceedings of the patriarch after his father's death, but he refused to do anything with the construction company. His other brothers were there to run the business while he and his sister were there for their mother.

Before his father's death, he accepted a promotion to become CIA Agent Handler.

And he was thirty-four years old when he met Y/N Vasilisa.

"She was filled with life," Lenny said softly, fingers tracing the surface of the table in front of him as he stared down at the patterns, remembering the night he met her. "She was something else," he swallowed thickly before turning his head away, not without a hint of regret in his icy depths.

Y/N met the director of CIA when she moved to Washington DC after college, who recruited her to be his secretary in late 1989 and having the career that aligned the path of the position as CIA Operative Handler, it was inevitable.

"I remembered being there when they first met," Maud Lebereva, her friend and co-worker recalled. She had buzz cut brown hair and wide doe eyes, she also migrated to the states from Russia when she was a teenager. "He came in to have a meeting with the director about an upcoming mission in then-USSR, he had his eyes on her way before she noticed him. It would've been sweet if it was something else, but I saw something I knew wasn’t sweet." She murmured, shaking her head.

No one knew anything about them. They had started meeting at lunchtime, getting to know each other, it was harmless. Anyone who walked down the streets in the DC area would see them sitting outside in cafes, laughter could be heard from them, and they looked like they were friends, best of friends even.

They were friends for a few months until early summer of 1990 when the director of CIA had a gathering where every person must attend the function.

He had to walk her to her home that night, and that was when the dynamic changed for them. A soft kiss on her cheek, a pair of lips pressed against her skin slowly before withdrawing, and she had blushed viciously.

After that night, they weren't just friends. They were on their way to becoming lovers.

No one knew about them. They talked through phone calls that would be on the side tables, they emailed each other, and they would do anything discreetly.

He was still unobtainable, and she was still feeling guilty. Although, he had said he loved her in the summer of August at the Bahamas when he took her out for a vacation under the disguise of attending a seminar. Somehow, in her mind his declaration of love made everything seem alright.

It wasn't until late November when everything started to unravel around her. She met a very sweet man Alex Tchenkov through a friend and knowing there couldn't be any more than just an affair between Lenny and her, she went for it.

That was when she realized she had the idea of love wrong. Love wasn't about swearing an oath not to be seen, keeping the lines blurry between what was right and wrong, and it wasn't supposed to feel poisonous. It felt deadly, like a bitter taste of acid whenever she looked back to the months of her affair with Lenny.

Her friend, Anna was in Langley for Christmas, and Y/N took her out to a bar in Washington DC. Afterwards they sat on the concrete edge of Tidal Basin for a long time until the sun began to set over the capital, talking. The blonde woman gave Y/N an early Christmas gift, and she started to cry. 

 "She cried for a really long time," Anna said thoughtfully, nibbling on the side of her bottom lip. "I didn't know she was trapped in a wrecking affair at that time, but she was crying because she said she didn't deserve Alex," she remembered idly. "I was confused, but at that moment I knew there were so many things about her, many secrets that she hadn't told him, and she was really scared she would lose him if she was honest with him."

Eventually one person found out in February, it was Maud who had introduced her to Alex. She had sworn to keep it as a secret, and there were times when they would all meet for lunch.

"Despite my ill-feelings towards Leonard, he was a good person to people around him that I knew of. Figuring him out, and not being able to put a finger on why he gives me a bad vibe, that is where I can't stand him." Maud murmured; her eyes flickered briefly to the window. "I do remember one time I sympathized with him when it came to Y/N, it was a dinner at a really expensive restaurant, and he offered to pay." She laughed slightly, although it sounded uneasy.

The whole dinner affair was tense, it was to say with the understatement of the century. Y/N barely gave Leonard any time of the day, only cordially polite even it would make the worst of the worst dictators silently kneel to the ground.

At some point during the evening, Y/N excused herself to the ladies' room. When she was gone, Lenny had turned to Maud and asked why Y/N hated him.

"I was surprised when he asked me that," she paused, thinking back to that night. "He sounded desperate and sad, and it was that moment I felt bad for him.".

Maud tried to give him an excuse not knowing how to placate his emotional being, and she knew the sad pitiful look on Leonard’s face was caused by Y/N’s attempts to leave so she could be completely in a relationship with Alex. She did wonder if Leonard had any feelings for Y/N after all. If he did, it would be too bad.

"I mean I knew Y/N was irrecoverably in love with Alex, and I just felt bad for Leonard because he didn't stand a chance." Maud sighed, chuckling. The sound was not without a small amount of pity. "I just never knew how bad of a person he was to her. It's always the guys that can fool you easily, but not girls. However, she did fool me a bit." A grimace adorned on her face as she thought about it.

In the leading months, she and Alex got involved exclusively with fear gripping in the back of her mind that Lenny could ruin it all. Leaving her life into ashes if he ever exposed their affair to Alex.

"It was the one thing in her life she was most ashamed of," the brunette murmured, "but it wasn't her fault. I just wished she would understand that. However, he was a powerful man in Washington DC. He could easily ruin her life if he wanted to, and he did."

It was after midnight on July 5th, 1991, but there was a soft orange glow behind the curtains framing windows in the apartment. Silhouettes could be seen moving as six people roamed around the place restless. The fear had gripped them all after false-hope rationalizations failed to erase the tension Y/N had left them with.

Her other best friend had noticed something was wrong when Y/N didn't show up for dinner along with Maud.

"She didn't call to tell us she was running late, or anything really." Anna stated, her blue eyes glistening as she sniffed slightly. "I tried calling her several times, but it went straight to the voicemail." Her eyes flickered to the window as her lips turned down slightly. "I waited because she always called me back no matter what."

While they had waited for her, for the police, for some word, anything; they forced themselves to believe that she was okay, she had to be, the other option was something they didn't want to think about. 

Ever.

"I remembered going through her room, finding her journal, and I thought as I stared at the slim book 'God help me that I will break her private cocoon she'd set up for her mind, but if it was to help us find her then so be it'." Anna murmured; her eyes closed briefly before opening. "I remembered there was some sort of a letter stuffed in the last page she'd written."

You asked me a long time ago after we met, 'what do you want?' in a teasing manner with a soft twinkle in your pretty eyes. What I want...is for you to be happy. I love you.

"It wasn't signed, but it didn't really have to be it was obvious, and that was when I knew Y/N had been harboring a secret for a long time." She shrugged before sighing, looking away. Her blonde hair swayed slightly. "She was definitely not perfect, but she was the best of us. Despite the flaws we harbored in ourselves, she saw the best in them, and I can see why she would look past his overbearing flaws in the beginning to see the best in him even when she shouldn't. I can't really fault her for that, she tried, and she did until it wasn't enough for her." She then hesitated, "and whatever she wrote in her last entry...I knew he’d read it because I know Y/N, she would've just thrown away the letter after reading it, not put it in her private cocoon where it would ruin her peace. The letter he put in was more of some correspondence to her journal right before everything..." she then paused; her bottom lip trembled as a gasp escaped from her mouth resonating in her lungs as a light sheen glazed over her eyes.

June 29th, 1991

Dear Diary,

There were times I questioned myself, in the beginning I could see why I wanted to be with Lenny despite all the wrong things that I have seen.

Now more than a year has passed, and I'm suffocating. The leash I didn't notice wrapped around my neck on the day we met had been becoming shorter and shorter, chipping away its inches as his control became iron-clad over time.

I had once asked him when I met him, he was the guy who had it all, and he did, but to assuage my curiosity, I had asked him "what do you want?"

And it was that particular conversation that changed everything for me.

We were doomed, entirely and truly.

I can't say it wasn't love at first, for me it was, but it wasn't for him. I had only noticed after I fell out of it was when I realized we were doomed. He was an agent with a dangerous future, and I was at a different place in life.

Being with Alex had made me see things differently, it made me realize that Lenny Miller is not the man I or everyone else thought he was. He is a narcissist, a liar who manipulated everything around him including me. He was like a rose, sweet at first until I touched the thorns and that was when he became cruel. I fell in love with the idea of him and accepted the false flaws until it got to the point where it all became too much for me to bear.

He knew I wanted the chains off my heart especially after meeting Alex. Especially when I want to be free, I need to be free, but he won't let me go. I know he will never let me go, and I'm afraid of whatever that means.

It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't love despite him saying it was.

I have to get away from him before the suffocation drives me to the grave.

Y/N.V.

"I did love her. I loved her more than anything in this world, even when she didn’t love me anymore, but I suppose no one would understand." Lenny had emphasized slightly, almost bitterly. His blue eyes were steely glinted when the light from the sun hit their depths, before the mask of indifference fell into place. "The last time I saw her was when she didn't want me to be in her life anymore." He had murmured before looking out to somewhere in the room. He had said when the sun began to set, everything fell apart around them, "and that was that." He then shrugged as if it explained it all.

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Tuesday, July 21, 1992

A MISSING AMERICAN WOMAN'S BODY FOUND IN LOIRE RIVER IN FRANCE

(Photo taken at the graduation in 1984)

The body of a 26-year-old woman Y/N Vasilisa who was reported missing a year ago on the 5th of July had been found in the Loire River under the boat dock in Nantes with a bullet wound in her head.

Vasilisa’s death, according to Detective Chief Marcel Clairmont of the Nantes Prosecutor's Office, was caused by bruising around the neck which resembled strangulation before the victim was killed with a bullet wound in the forehead. The cause of death was accurate after the autopsy was completed by the Washington DC Coroner Vincent Delacour. The prime suspect for her disappearance prior to her death, former CIA agent Leonard Miller’s DNA was not found anywhere on her body, and the bullet did not match his gun serial numbers thus eliminating him from the list of suspects...[read page five for more information].

[luneymoony]

The Butterfly's Effect (Prologue)

a SAGAU!Imposter! AU x Shinobu!Reader where the reader is.. well, shinobu kocho from demon slayer.

CW: mentions of death, swearing, slight mentions of dissecting? Major Spoiler Warning for the anime only watchers out there! (imsosorryomfg) WC: 1.4k Notes: reader will be shinobu, like, literally. english isnt my first language so i apologize if theres any grammar, spelling mistakes or edits. :)) i've been obsessed with crossovers and sagaus so why not put them together? Photo is not mine!

...

It's so dark.

What happened?

I can't remember anything..

Wait..

Am I.. Dead?

~

The final battle of the Demon slayer corps has finally come to an end. The demon king, Muzan has finally succumbed to his demise after more than ten thousand years of living as a demon. The upper moons were all defeated and Japan is now demon free.

Of course, everything comes with a price. As many people strived to defeat the demon king, many also died in the process. Tomioka Giyuu, and Shinazugawa Sanemi, The remaining Hashiras of the corps.

Rengoku Kyojiro, Iguro Obanai, Kanroji Mitsuri, Tokito Muichiro, Himejima Gyomei, Kocho Shinobu.

These were the pillars that had lost their lives in the battlefield. Many people lost something in that battle. Their lives, their loved ones, their abilities. It will take time to heal from these wounds. Emotionally, physically and mentally.

Kanao looked at the butterfly hairpin on her hand, her mind drifts off to the insect hashira and how she died, how she was getting absorbed by that vile and disgusting demon. How she could've saved her if she was more quick enough.

Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes, holding the butterfly hairpin more firmly and bringing it close to her chest. She misses them so much. She can only pray that they will be reincarnated to a world free of demons. A world where they could be happy.

A world that they can live in freely.

~

Your eyes flutters open. Your head was spinning and the first thing your eyes see is the clear, bright blue sky. You blinked rapidly to clear your blurring vision. You moved your head a bit to take in your surroundings.

You were laying on a soft patch of grass in the middle of nowhere. A large tree giving you enough shade to block your form from the sun's bright, and burning glow.

Slowly you sat up, groaning while doing so. You don't remember laying or being here when you were last conscious. The last thing you remembered was the sound of your sword dropping to the ground and-

Wait.

That's right, you were fighting uppermoon two. By what you can gather, you had died and had been absorbed by him.

But.. what happened after that? You certainly didn't remember getting yourself teleported to this unknown place, in fact, this wasn't even where you were when you had fought the bastard. And aren't you supposed to be dead?

Your thoughts were interrupted when there's a sudden noise coming from behind the tree. The loud noise startling you from your train of thoughts. You stood up —albeit a bit slowly— and noticed that you still had your sword with you, and your clothes were still intact. Your hand went to the back of your head to feel the butterfly hairpin that is strangely still there.

Choosing to save the questions that were racing in your mind for later, you feel the hilt of your sword and carefully and quietly approached the matter behind the tree.

You stopped once your eyes spot the.. Unusual looking creature? It looked a bit human, with arms, legs, a head and a mask covering its face. Weird ears. It also looked like it has something on its mask.

The creature seemed didn't seem to notice you or your presence, not until you stood in front of it did it froze. Its noises stopped too. It looked completely frozen by the sight of you.

Your hand on your sword's hilt had tighten, although it didn't show any signs of attacking you nor does it seemed armed, you were still very wary of it.

It doesn't look like a demon, well, not the usual demons. It is sure a humanoid creature with just some weird ears but it doesn't seem harmful. You also noticed that it had a briefcase from its side.

"What are you?"

Those are the first words you have spoken ever since you had woken up. Your voice was hoarse, your mouth and throat felt dry like the dessert. But you aren't giving in to the tempting urge to drinking whatever liquid is near to you until this creature answered you your question.

Although you did feel a bit stupid to just ask this random creature a question, when you could've just killed it right then and there for its unusual appearance. However.. you weren't going to attack it until it attacks you first. Plus, there were something off about this one.

Your gentle gaze and soft movements startled the Unusual Hilichurl. It couldn't get its eyes off of you, you looked like you simply didn't exist. It usually payed no mind to the others and the mortals that passed by. Taking no interest in them whatsoever.

But when its eyes laid on you, it froze. The hilichurl had no idea why but it felt like its about to drop to its knees before your presence. And that, it did.

Your eyes blinked in surprise at the kneeling hilichurl in front of you. Truth to say, your eyes were keen and careful to whatever movement its doing so as you were almost about to unsheathe your sword, it just dropped to its knees and bowed.

"What are you doing?"

The creature didn't moved an inch, it just kneeled and didn't say anything. It didn't even answer your first question.

You were even more curious by this sudden behavior of this mysterious creature. You wanted to investigate and possibly might dissect it for later. Yet you couldn't ignore your stomach that was begging for food, and your dry throat.

Seeing as this creature didn't want to seem to cooperate, and it most likely probably couldn't, you let it be, as you need to do more important things. Like finding food and water to prevent yourself from dying of thirst or starvation.

You just took once more glance at it and turned your heel to walk away. To your surprise, you have spotted a small river. You walked towards it and removed your butterfly patterned haori to properly drink it.

The water's very refreshing, and it felt like heaven when the liquid made contact to your mouth, and down to your throat. Not to mention, the water also tastes quite good. Its most likely because you haven't really drank much. Wonder how long you were laying in that area?

After drinking, you had put your haori back on and went to explore this unfamiliar place that you're in. Maybe you could find some sort of village or town here that would invite you in.

You looked around for a bit and noticed that theres something in the distance that caught your eye, was it a city perhaps? it looked huge, there were windmills that you could see clearly from this place. Maybe there'll be some people there that can help you.

The cool breeze of the air and the heat of the sun felt so much like home to you. It has been awhile since you felt this relaxed with such environment. The scenery, the relaxing atmosphere, it felt so nostalgic.

"This is nice."

You couldn't help but speak fondly out loud. You smiled to yourself, a real and genuine smile. Not the fake smile that you usually wore to hide your true self, but a relaxed, and actual calm smile. This sense of tranquility almost feels too foreign to you that you couldn't help but sigh and close your eyes.

Even if you didn't see it, even if you weren't there, you could sense that the uppermoon two had been defeated by your tsuguko, and Inosuke. You couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of the cocky bastard arrogantly mocking you from your "worthless" attempt to kill him.

It was only when the poison taking effect did you laugh at that fucker's melting face. He really did underestimate you huh? Who knew that a simple butterfly can unleash so much hell with a single flap of its wings? It was truly pathetic trying to see the little shit's futile attempt regenerate its head.

Once the uppermoon had been defeated and is now entering the gates of hell, you were triumphant of his demise. You couldn't stand seeing his stupid face and seeing it melting to the ground unleashed a wave of satisfaction in you.

You shook your head and chuckled to yourself, focusing on your only goal for now as you continued your way to the city with a slight and satisfied curl of your lips.

The windmills of this city was getting clearer to your vision, as you were getting nearer and nearer to the city, a voice suddenly calls out.

"Stop right there!"

You froze and stopped in your tracks. Was it another one of those creatures that you met at that tree? but this one can talk and- wait a minute. Are they speaking in a foreign language?

Where exactly did you wake up in?

~~~

hihihiii its finally hereee

i've been procrastinating this for a week now becuz ive been so busy but here it is! the amount of ideas i have for this is akkakkahdjas

but ive finally managed to put myself together to make this! i really hope u all like it :,)

lmk if anyone wants me to continue this, the prologue is slightly boring and messy at first but ill try to make it readable as possible.

Edit: i forgot to put a spoiler warninggg :C im so sorry anime only watchers akcsksksk

[adobe-outdesign]

Have you reviewed the Farfetch'd line?

Back in the early days of Pokemon, it was more common to see Pokemon based on specific Japanese references that English audiences wouldn't necessarily understand (not that this doesn't still happen, but they seem to acknowledge they're an international brand more these days).

In Farfetch'd's (that name looks so wrong as a possessive) case, it's based on the Japanese proverb "a duck comes bearing spring onions". Ducks are often cooked with onions, so the saying is referring to something that's an unlikely opportunity (the closest English version would probably be a "sitting duck").

The concept is fun, but being a Gen 1 design, it's also maybe a bit too straightforward—it's a duck with a leek, nothing less and nothing more. I do like the expression with those big ol' brows, and it's perfectly fine-looking, but it feels like it could've been pushed more. (I'm kind of surprised it didn't have leek elements built into it and be part grass-type, given that it already has the leak shape built into its head feathers.) It always seemed like the perfect kind of Pokemon to evolve, and apparently GameFreak agreed... kind of.

My major beef with Galarian Farfetch'd is that it exists in the first place. That sounds harsh, but what I mean is that regional-only evolutions are fine when they only make sense coming off a regional with a different concept. For example, Cursola wouldn't make sense when evolving from regular Corsola because the bleached coral theme would come out of nowhere; Obstagoon wouldn't make sense evolving from regular Linoone because it has no reason to turn into Gene Simmons out of nowhere, etc etc.

But with G. Farfetch'd? It's not really all that different from regular Farfetch'd at all, and I definitely don't think Sirfetch'd needed to evolve from a regional; it would've made just as much sense evolving from Kantonian Farfetch'd. So all G. Farfetch'd does is make regular Farfetch'd feel even more obsolete than it already did.

Now, I will say that visually, I do prefer G. Farfetch'd's design. The stupidly huge leek is super fun and brings a lot more to the table conceptually when combined with its extra serious expression and increased strength (especially because it's apparently based on how leeks are bigger in England than Japan). The darker colors are also nice, and it's a nice little touch that the head feathers switch orientation. It's a good improvement over the original, just once again frustrating from a practicality standpoint.

I should also mention really quick that originally, Farfetch'd had this scrapped evo called Madame. I'm... not a big fan, to be honest. I don't know if it's meant to have an SM thing going on with it or if it's just meant to be masquerade-themed, but either way that element comes out of nowhere and the main focus of Farfetch'd, the leek, is too de-emphasized. The feather detailing also feels like too much.

Pre-evo beefs aside, I do really like Sirfetch'd as a design. The concept of just taking the leek and making it into a sword and shield is extremely fun and straightforward, and I like the little details like the sheer length of the sword, the handle being the unpeeled base, and the leaves being the shield. The white body works well with the white parts of the plant and gives it a "white knight" kind of vibe, which is really emphasized by its super stocky body. Conceptually it makes logical sense as an evo; visually, it's fun and easy to understand. No complaints here.

As a whole: Farfetch'd is fine but feels like it could've been pushed more conceptually. G. Farfetch'd has an improved concept and design, but also didn't really need to exist and robs original Farfetch'd of an evo. Regardless, the evo itself is a great design with a solid concept.