#I found a rat puppet and immediately wanted to do this

[saucytango]

I turned Harold the rat into a puppet!

[cherrythepuppet]

Puppets before Christmas [Part 3]

AU belongs to @cloudy-dreams [This is only going to have 5 chapters! Each is pretty long word wise ha ha]

"This has never happened before!" The clown Dog, Barnaby, said "It's suspicious!" A witch exclaimed "It's peculiar!" Another witch exclaimed "It's scary!" A vampire

"Stand aside!" Howdy yelled "Coming through! We've got find (Y/n)! There's only 365 days left till next Halloween!" Howdy announced "364!" someone in the crowd yelled

"Is there anywhere we've forgotten to check?" Howdy asked "I looked in every mausoleum!" Barnaby said"We opened the sarcophagi!"  "I tromped through the pumpkin patch!"

"I peeked behind the Cyclops's eye! I did! But They weren't there!" "It's time to sound the alarms!" Howdy yelled...."Frog's breath will overpower any odor" Wally mumbled as he poured the frog's breath into the pot but it smelled horrible and he began coughing

"Bitter!" He yelled while coughing "Worm's wart! Where's that worm's wart?!" He said as he searched the cabinets until he found the worms wort

"Wally, that soup ready yet?" Poppy asked "Coming!" Wally yelled as he poured the worms wort into the pot before getting a wooden spoon and bowl 

After a moment Wally walked upstairs to where Poppy was working "lunch" he said as he set the bowl in front of poppy "Ah, what's that? Worm's wart! mmm, and...frog's breath" Poppy muttered

 "What's wrong? I-I thought you liked frog's breath!" Wally replied "Nothing's more suspicious than frog's breath! Until you taste it I won't swallow a spoonful!" Poppy told him while she held the spoon out towards him

"I'm not hungry!" Wally lied as he knocked spoon onto the ground "Oops!" He mumbled before bending down to grab it "You want me to starve!? An old Woman like me who hardly has strength as it is. Me, to whom you owe your very life!" Poppy groaned 

Wally moved the wooden spoon to hide it under the table before he pulled out a trick spoon from his sock then he stood up "Oh don't be silly" Wally chuckled He ate the soup with trick spoon "Mmmm, see. Scrumptious!" He said, Poppy was still skeptical but she at Ate soup...

~

"Did anyone think to dredge the lake?" Howdy asked "this morning!" Barnaby yelled then everyone went quiet As they could hear the sounds of faint meowing Everyone then looked in the direction of the meowing "(Y/n)'s back!" someone exclaimed

"Where have you been?" Howdy asked"Call a town meeting and I'll tell everyone all about it!" (Y/n) told him "When?" Howdy asked "Immediately!" (Y/n) yelled"Town meeting, town meeting, town meeting tonight, town meeting tonight!" Howdy announced as he drove around in his truck...

~

"Listen everyone. I want to tell you about Christmastown!" (Y/n) told the town as Music began playing

"There are objects so peculiar They were not to be believed All around, things to tantalize my brain It's a world unlike anything I've ever seen And as hard as I try I can't seem to describe Like a most improbable dream But you must believe when I tell you this It's as real as my skull and it does exist Here, let me show you This is a thing called a present The whole thing starts with a box!" "A box? is it steel?" "Are there locks?" "Is it filled with a pox?"

"A pox How delightful, a pox!" "If you please Just a box with bright-colored paper And the whole thing's topped with a bow!" "bow? But why? How ugly What's in it? What's in it?" "That's the point of the thing, not to know!""It's a bat Will it bend?" "It's a rat! Will it break?" "Perhaps it s the head that I found in the lake!" "

Listen now, you don't understand That's not the point of Christmas land Now, pay attention We pick up an oversized sock And hang it like this on the wall!" "Oh, yes! Does it still have a foot?" "Let me see, let me look!" "Is it rotted and covered with gook?" "Um, let me explain There's no foot inside, but there's candy Or sometimes it's filled with small toys!"

"Small toys?" "Do they bite?" "Do they snap?" "Or explode in a sack?" "Or perhaps they just spring out And scare girls and boys!" "What a splendid idea This Christmas sounds fun I fully endorse it Let's try it at once!"

"Everyone, please now, not so fast There's something here that you don't quite grasp Well, I may as well give them what they want And the best, I must confess, I have saved for the last For the ruler of this Christmas land!"

"Is a fearsome Queen with a deep mighty voice Least that's what I've come to understand And I've also heard it told That She's something to behold Like a lobster, huge and red When She sets out to slay with her rain gear on Carting bulging sacks with her big great arms!"

"That is, so I've heard it said And on a dark, cold night Under full moonlight She flies into a fog Like a vulture in the sky And they call her! Sally Claws!" Everyone was cheering as (Y/n) walked off "Well, at least they're excited But they don't understand That special kind of feeling in Christmas land Oh, well..." They mumbled

"You've poisoned me for the last time you wretched Doll!" Poppy yelled before she locks Wally away and a loud dingdong"Oh my head...the door is open!" She said

"Hel-lo?" (Y/n) yelled "(Y/n) Skellington, up here my Friend!" Poppy exclaimed "Dr. I need to borrow some equipment!" (Y/n) told poppy "Is that so, whatever for?" Poppy asked

"I'm conducting a series of experiments" (Y/n) explained "How perfectly marvelous! Curiosity killed the cat, you know!" Poppy said with a small laugh But that made (Y/n) frown "I know" They grumbled

"Come on into the lab and we'll get you all fixed up!" Poppy added, Wally heard everything as he was leaning aginast the door "Hmm. Experiments?" He asked quietly"Otoo, I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled as they began to set up all their science equipment then began working

"Interesting reaction....but what does it mean?" (Y/n) groaned before they heard a knock? At the window?(Y/n) walked over to the window and saw a basket hitting it, they opened the window and looked down to see the blue haired Ragdoll

Wally smiled at (Y/n) making their skull turn a small shade of grey, (Y/n) waved at Wally before taking the basketThey looked down but Wally was gone...After Wally gives (Y/n) them the basket and sneaks off He picks a flower which turned into a Christmas tree then catches on fire

"Something's up with (Y/n) Something's up with (Y/n)! Don't know if we're ever going to get Them back! They're all alone up there Locked away inside Never says a word Hope They haven't died Something's up with (Y/n)! Something's up with (Y/n)!"

"Christmas time is buzzing in my skull Will it let me be? I cannot tell There's so many things I cannot grasp When I think I've got it, and then at last Through my bony fingers it does slip Like a snowflake in a fiery grip Something here I'm not quite getting Though I try, I keep forgetting Like a memory long since past Here in an instant, gone in a flash What does it mean? What does it mean?"

"In these little bric-a-brac A secret's waiting to be cracked These dolls and toys confuse me so Confound it all, I love it though Simple objects, nothing more But something's hidden through a door Though I do not have the key Something's there I cannot see What does it mean? What does it mean? What does it mean?"

"Hmm... I've read these Christmas books so many times I know the stories and I know the rhymes I know the Christmas carols all by heart My skull's so full, it's tearing me apart As often as I've read them, something's wrong So hard to put my bony finger on Or perhaps it's really not as deep As I've been led to think Am I trying much too hard? Of course!"

"I've been too close to see The answer's right in front of me Right in front of me It's simple really, very clear Like music drifting in the air Invisible, but everywhere Just because I cannot see it Doesn't mean I can't believe it You know, I think this Christmas thing It's not as tricky as it seems And why should they have all the fun?"

"It should belong to anyone Not anyone, in fact, but me Why, I could make a Christmas tree And there's no reason I can find I couldn't handle Christmas time I bet I could improve it too And that's exactly what I'll do Hee,hee,hee!" (Y/n) pushed open the windows "Eureka!! This year, Christmas will be ours!" they exclaimed as the town began to cheer but Wally looked worried...

~

"Patience, everyone! (Y/n) has a special Job for each of us! Dr. Poppy, your Xmas assignment is ready. Dr. Poppy to the front of the line!" Howdy announced "I knew it! Dr. thank you for coming! We need some of these!" (Y/n) said as they showed a picture of Santa and sleigh

"Hmm.. their construction should be exceedingly simple. I think" Poppy mumbled "How horrible our Xmas will be!" Howdy exclaimed"No--how jolly!" (Y/n) corrected making Howdy switch faces "Oh, how jolly our Xmas will be..." He said befire he gets pelted by rocks then sees the three trick or treaters

"What are you doing here?!" He asked"(Y/n) sent for us!" Julie grinned "Specifically!" Frank said "By name!" Eddie added "(Y/n)! (Y/n) it's Home's Henchpeople!" Howdy yelled

"Ah, Halloween's finest trick or treaters. The job I have for you is top secret. It requires craft, cunning, mischief!" (Y/n) told the three"And we thought you didn't like us, (Y/n)!" Eddie said with a laugh "Absolutely no one is to know about it. Not a soul. Now!" (Y/n) replied

(Y/n) whispered the plan to them before speaking louder nkw "And one more thing -- leave that no account Home out of this!" They demanded "Whatever you say, (Y/n)!" "Of course (Y/n)!" "Wouldn't dream of it (Y/n)!"all said with their fingers crossed before they ran out of the town and to a small little tree house

"Kidnap Mrs Sally Claws!" "I wanna do it!" "Let's draw straws!" "(Y/n) said we should work together!" "Three of a kind!" "Birds of a feather!" "Now and forever Wheeee La, la, la, la, la Kidnap the Sally Claws, lock her up real tight Throw away the key and then Turn off all the lights!"

"First, we're going to set some bait Inside a nasty trap and wait When She comes a-sniffing we will Snap the trap and close the gate!" "Wait! I've got a better plan To catch this big red lobster Star! Let's pop her in a boiling pot And when She's done we'll butter her up!"

"Kidnap the Sally Claws Throw her in a box Bury her for ninety years Then see if She talks!" "Then Mr. Home Can take the whole thing over then He'll be so pleased, I do declare That he will cook her rare!" "I say that we take a cannon Aim it at her door And then knock three times And when She answers Sally Claws will be no more!"

"You're so stupid, think now lf we blow her up to smithereens We may lose some pieces And then (Y/n) will beat us black and green!" "Kidnap the Sally Claws! Tie her in a bag Throw her in the ocean Then, see if She is sad!" "Because Mr. Home is the meanest guy around If I were on his list, I'd get out of town!"

"He'll be so pleased by our success That he'll reward us too, I'll bet!" "Perhaps he'll make his special brew Of snake and spider stew Ummm! We're his little henchmen and We take our job with pride We do our best to please him And stay on his good side!"

"I wish my cohorts weren't so dumb!" "I'm not the dumb one!" "You're no fun!" "Shut up!" "Make me!""I've got something, listen now This one is real good, you'll see We'll send a present to her door Upon there'll be a note to read Now, in the box we'll wait and hide Until her curiosity entices her to look inside!" "And then we'll have her One, two, three!"

"Kidnap the Sally Claws, beat her with a stick Lock her up for ninety years, see what makes her tick Kidnap the Sally Claws, chop him into bits Mr. Home is sure to get his kicks! Kidnap the Sally Claws, see what we will see Lock her in a cage and then, throw away the key!"

"Sally Claws..hahaha!" Home exclaimed.....

[ericaportfolio]

Scout Saves the Show AU Characters

Part 1: Main Cast

I want to post this quickly so that you have an idea of what to expect in this story. For now, let's get to the main characters.

Mortimer Handee: The boss and leader of Mortimer's Handeemen. Mortimer Handee came from a wealthy family in the family construction business. However, after World War II, he became a world-famous magician. But after a series of unfortunate events with a boat, Mortimer quit. Then, one day, he started Mortimer's Handeemen out of the blue to help kids solve their problems and later got a deal with 123 Network for a kid's reality show. But one day, after being tired of being alone, Mortimer becomes a foster parent. He agrees to take in a troublesome, felt puppet, ten-year-old Scout Prime, aka the Rat Gremlin. Despite putting up a happy face whenever chaos ensues, many wonder what happened to Mortimer's original family that caused him to be like this in the first place? Can Mortimer create the found family he dreams of, or will Gremlin Scout throw a wrench in those plans?

Scout Prime: An orphaned young preteen, Scout Prime, is known as the Rat Gremlin in the foster care system and the local area. Although she's the prankster and troublemaker in town who doesn't believe in happy ever afters, she has a soft spot for watching Mortimer's Handeemen due to the chaos in each episode. After being taken away from another Foster Home that had terrible foster parents and then Scout causing some explosions at the orphanage, it seemed hope for Scout was lost. That was until the Social Workers got a call from Mortimer Handee that he wanted to become a foster parent. When Scout met Mortimer, who decided to take her in on the spot, she knew she was in the weirdest moment of her life. But the best moment of her life was when Scout found out she was on the show for the long run. Now, living the dream of being a part of the Handeemen's chaotic messes, she would do anything to fit in to be part of the craziness of the episodes. However, the other Handeemen are not happy with Scout's presence. Will Scout prove she's a team member and be herself, or will the other Handeemen find a way to kick her out?

Riley Ruckus: The unofficial second in command of the Handeemen, Riley Ruckus, a young woman scientist, was the fan-favorite looking for "More Data." Despite having a decently paying job at the Labs, it's not enough since she's a single dog mom to Rosco the Dog and responsible for almost all the explosions on campus she has to pay for. She immediately took Mortimer's offer to join the forming Handeemen in hopes it could get the higher-ups like her boss and leader of the school campus, President Blocks, to notice her work. Unfortunately, the job came with a rivalry with the Lord of the Stage, Nicolas "Nick" Nack. Although she was against the idea of a surprise TV show without the other Handeemen's knowledge on the first day of filming, she warmed up to it to get more attention for her work and from Mortimer like the golden child. That was until the Rat Gremlin came into the picture. With Riley being replaced by Mortimer's foster daughter, her jobs threatened after an incident, her mother, Virginia Ruckus, back in town, and the Love of her Life (platonically people), Rosco, falling in love with the neighbor's dog, can Riley handle the changes in her life, or slowly become the group's mad scientist?

Daisy Danger: The sweet mother-like figure and party planner of the group, Daisy Danger, has quite a temper when she enters Danger Mode. Out of the Handeemen, Daisy is the puppet who knows Mortimer the longest from the group. When she was the first to be approached by Mortimer, who wanted to create Mortimer's Handeemen, she was a freelance party planner tired of planning parties for just bridezillas. Helping kids with their events and parties was something she always wanted to do for a long time. The only things that bother her are hoping Mortimer isn't losing his sanity, especially since that horrible incident, and wishing Riley and Nick could get along just for five minutes. When the Film Crew appeared out of nowhere one day, despite her concern, she decided to take the middle ground in this situation and go with the flow. She was actually enjoying it, that was, until Mortimer became a foster parent of the town's troublemaker. With Scout Prime blowing up their lives, can Daisy pull herself together and not go Danger Mode on a child? Also, what's her history involving the Handee family, and what is she hiding?

Nick Nack: Nicolas "Nick" Nack, the Lord of the (struggling) Stage! Nick has returned to the States for a few years after attending the best art schools across the seas and living with family from his mother's side of the family. Unfortunately, they say you have to suffer in the arts, especially when you have to spend extra for your craft to put on shows and art galleries while working at the School's theatre department, which is also being disturbed by someone causing explosions at the campus labs, and needing to afford rent from his slimy landlord. To at least make ends meet, Nick got a second job through Mortimer's Handeemen as the artistic one in the group. The downside is Nick is constantly at odds with the puppet who causes those explosions, Riley Ruckus. When the Filming Crew appeared out of the blue for a TV show one day, Nick welcomed it with open arms. But now that's in question as his spotlight is also threatened by the new fan-favorite, Scout Prime. As Scout's chaos ensues, can Nick and Riley put aside their differences to team up against the little troublemaker, or will his past childhood trauma come back to haunt him?

Rosco the Dog: Riley Ruckus's golden retriever and unofficial mascot of the Handeemen. No matter where Riley Ruckus goes, Rosco is always by her side. Rosco has been loyal to his owner and dog mom since he was a little puppy. To afford the resources to take care of Rosco, Riley joined Mortimer's Handeemen. This was the greatest thing for Rosco as the kids the Handeemen help adore him. Even when the Filming Crew first arrived, he practically jumped on them in excitement despite the Filming Crew running and jumping around to stay away from a giant dog they just met. When Scout enters the picture, Rosco is happy he has another fetch buddy. The current issue is that after one of Season Two's episodes, he meets the neighbor's new dog, Missy, who he's got his heart set on. However, Riley, who saw him as the Love of her life (again, platonically people), is not on board with Rosco experiencing puppy love. Will Rosco get Riley to accept Missy, or will Riley's jealousy destroy their dog mom and puppet's best friend relationship?

Kathy October Socks: Mortimer's new grumpy, tired secretary and H&PR after the first episode's events. Kathy October Socks is desperate to take anything after leaving a toxic work environment, even if it's the chaotic Handeemen group to pay college bills. Though, at times, she wished she had run out the door with the other interviewees when she had the chance. Can Kathy get through this job before getting to some breaking point to spread true rumors about her coworkers as a form of revenge?

Owen Gubberson and Filming Crew: The Film Production Crew, led by Owen Gubberson, was going through rough times and at risk of bankruptcy before they took the offer to do a documentary reality kid's show about Mortimer's Handeemen of puppets helping kids solve their problems. Simple, right? It seemed like it until they realized they were also becoming stunt doubles in each mess they entered. After begging the network for better pay since they wanted money for possible emergency insurance that forced Owen slyly hints in the fireside chat episode to raise money, they got their needed pay raise after a compromise from the network. But that was all taken away when Mortimer used the funding to fix his mansion to foster the infamous Rat Gremlin. After surviving a chaotic Season One, does Owen and his expanded Filming Crew have the guts to survive Season Two?

[jeysecretive]

Before the portrait in my eyes inflamed with fatigue loses its divine beauty, I will present it to the public. It's still a wip, but I can't wait to show it off :)

This is my piece for @tadc-harlequin-au , I throw my daughter on some interesting happenings.

Below the cut I put some beta sketches of her outfit design and a little bit of something.

Plus an approximate description of her story

***

J-formerly a human girl, now an untamed wild animal surviving in a city full of mindless puppets.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––

She used to have a home and family. But they were brutally murdered by marionettes who went insane. J herself briefly became the only person amongst the apocalypse on the streets. But then she was found by people who needed sane guards. Her mind and soul had been moved into an iron body.

In desperate attempts to find a way for puppet's madness, scientists and the wealthy tried to create fierce and obedient soldiers who would not hesitate to protect their miserable lives. But crumbling cyborgs made of rotting flesh and bad parts did not serve as a proper defense. After the puppets began destroying the city in a frenzy, J was able to escape from the lab.

Out of fear, she hid in a junkyard. The shock of what had happened haunted her throughout the time after her capture, making it impossible for her to live her life in peace. Attempts to instill in her the rage program she needed for battle had created a monster in her heart. Ruthless, uncontrollable and enraged.

But fortunately, the girl was born with a relatively cool mind and a pure soul. Her senses of touching the world around her were greatly sharpened, aggression and beast instincts appeared, but J remained in her mind. Instead of attacking anyone, she hid in a safe place, trying to repair herself and get rid of the parts of the human body that were no longer needed.

Thanks to the mechanical engineering skills learned in the lab she was able to ineptly but quickly replace her body with iron.

During her recovery, she lived permanently in junkyards, afraid to walk around the city. Puppets in the streets attacked her, pushing her back to abandoned areas. She believed that there were no sane puppets left and survived by trying to build a comfortable place to live.

Once she had settled in and repaired her body, she began to fight the crazed puppets, hoping to clear the space, but quickly realized there was no point. There was nothing for her to do in the city.

She needed food like a living creature. She didn't know what the reason was, as there wasn't a shred of human flesh left in her.

Trying to look for food in the city, she ran into puppets trying to rip her apart. There was no point in wasting her time on them, so she began to eat birds caught in garbage dumps, rodents, dug up roots and collected rainwater. She grew wild grass and made bread and chowder from it.

But eventually she began to weaken. Food became scarce and rats fled from the puppet graveyards to places rich in food. Grass began to grow poorly because of the coarse soil and lack of good sunlight. Due to his inability to repair some parts in himself, J began to slowly deteriorate and look more like a rusty skeleton than a robot.

It was during this period that she decided to leave the junkyard. Decided that even if death is near, she will die in a place that pleases her, either in battle, instantly and painlessly.

For a week she walked around the city fighting dolls. Looking for places suitable for a quiet end to her life.

At the end of the week, almost desperate and losing her strength, she saw the Mansion in the distance. It caught her eye immediately. It was different. More whole, more colorful. More... cozy? Residential?

A very different building from the others.

Her animal instincts knew there was someone there who wanted a place to live. It was just a matter of finding out who.

[jinhsiimain]

The Magistrates Diary ♡ Entry 1

Menu - Diary - Archive Date - 23rd May 2024 - contains spoilers See end of entry for important notes !

My Journey began at 4:08 am, after loading and veryfiying. I made a Whatsapp chat to record all of this :D The intro cutscene reminded me a lot of the unknown god scene from genshin. (I apologize for the comparisons to hoyogames, that how I connect info and make it go into my brain-)

The animations are beautiful and the goddess is etheral. I picked the female rover! cuz i thought the short hair looked so cool and then i noticed she joined the rat tail gang :/

Running around was so fun and Yangyang and chixia are adorable. I almost freaked out when I first saw Baizhi, she's so pretty.

One thing I noticed almost immediately is that the dialoge is really messy (cut off, fading out ??).

But the animation when they talk is so nice, like it has variety and not just the same two Expressions for every character, it gives them more charm.

AND I found the skip button - I told myself not to abuse it tho cuz I wanna know the story and understand everything.

I love that we have an actual name in the game for now like i love rover sm.

The thing about me finding out about Echos: "Oh i unlocked echos hihi!" "no echo for me :(" "WHAT" "ECHO FOR ME?"

I absorbed the echo with my body and was SO confused.

The OST is so cool and nice to listen to. I almost exploded over their facial expressions.

THEN I FELL IN LOVE no seriously, I met Jinhsi

"MY ROMAN EMPIRE?" "SHE WANTS TO MEET ME" "like a date 🤞🤞" "jkjk" "BUT LOWKEY I'M INVESTED" "surrounded by pretty girls" "what a day to be alive"

I got invested in the story, finding out we're important to the nation and becoming friends with Chixia and Yangyang! I also slowly got used to combat, especially enjoyign the echo abilities! The turtle is super fun.

"BRO IS HAVING A DANCE PARTY"

THEEEEEN I FOUND OUT ABOUT THE DOUBLE JUMP - best thing that ever happened.

short environment rant before I continue!! I love the way the open world feels so far! it's amazing to see a seemingly normal open world with little oddities and familiar entities! like the enemies can be turtles, shrooms and random floaty things or stone golems. Some of the animals I saw so far were obviously birds, lizards and fish but there's also rabbits and goats running around which I find really cute.

the design of the world feels really nice too like the colors aren't like "boom in your face!" but rather bend well. Things like the villages and the huge cherry tree stand out that way and I love that so far. and it feels so peaceful and immersing?? Does that make sense??

I found out how to increase stamina and i can run up walls!!! It's amazing, as well as the dodging ability. I was playing honkai impact just hours before the release so i was already used to evasion skills hihi!!

Another thing that started bothering me is that the dialog of the main story is kind of repetitive and doesn't feel that natural (yet), but I think it's due to the localization issues kurogames had before. I'm sure It'll get better soon!

3 hours in, I got my very first 5 Star

"I actually wanted her most next to Jianxin :3" "she has those creepy ass puppets but that's exactly the stuff I like 🤞"

I planned to save my limited banner pulls for future characters bc i think the guy looks kinda goofy- "I hope jinshi is limited and available soon🫶🏻"

At 11 am I lit up the entire map except the top part :D

I got used to playing Encore, since I'm a Yanfei main I found she feels kinda similiar", and its really fun!!!!!!

Then I came up with my goals for this patch but I'm in no way pressuring myself to meet them or play because I want this game to stay fun! FUN!!!

100% the current map

finish the main quest

collect all the available sonace caskets

max / main encore

In Genshin Impact and Honkai Star Rail I (used to) collect all the 4 stars and i was thinking about doing that too in WuWa but I'm not sure about that yet since I actually have no pressure/desire to pull.

I continued the main story and met Jianxin, she's so cool!!

"I just noticed that all the black haired girls so far have like colored hair parts and I was thinking that it aligns with their element? but rover is spectra (currently) so idk? but also everyone kind of has elements colored hair- lemme verify that" ↳ okay so hair theory only partly fits

Every resonator has the tacet discord mark? as far as I can tell (yes genius did you pay attention?)

my team so far is Encore, rover/yangyang and baizhi and once I get jianxin I'll replace rover / yangyang probably

I fought my first "big" boss - caraspace engine zero, no death + achievement!! or rather "Trophy"!

Yangyang is a midnight ranger, like chixia, okay!!

Did some more story and got lore dumps! There's a voice inside us?

Also it's so cool that yangyang can feel stuff in the wind please do more with that!! We can read tacet discord coordinates?? Yangyang can also hear in the wind?? that ahhh so cool

I desperately want more elemental lore, it's so interesting!

We met scar - "Mr bad man Mr Scar okay he's the bad guy??" "Yangyang found a cat and vanished" "Mr bad guy is a little insane" "his eyes are freaky" "WHY DOES HE KNOW ABOUT OUR BACK STORY" "HIS NAILS ARE SO LONG FOR WHAT"

"I KNEW IT THEY'RE ALL SUSSY" "lowkey I trust him with the lore dumps but not so much with him wanting to be our friend" "he's possessive girl get a grip" (lowkey he's so flirty and hot and ngh) "okay I think he's really not lying, like I said, not friend, but a reliable source. gonna call him Mr lore!" "Jinhsi is in on it too girl what are you doing?" "So Mr lore wants equality between the resonators and normal humans?"

The story book tale is actually so cool and while I as playing i tried to understand and puzzle the pieces together! " The black lamb was their scapegoat… they sacrificed her… but there's a black goat in the back still. The flock blamed someone again after the shepherd stopped granting wishes. The village is guilty of their own greed."

It turned out that Scar wasn't the shepherd and I never suspected as such, he seems more like a black lamb himself!

Then he trapped us in his Elysium, which is an interesting ability. I don't know if you guys have the same "problem?" but I'm so fast at beating the enemies that the voicelines are too slow. I haven't even leveled the weapons and echos.

We met scars companion? The spider lily girl. Her voice is adorable and she's soo cool!!! The character designs in general are amazing.

So Yangyang is sus of scar and eventhough I'm as well, I still think he is right in some aspects and the story book like tale he told holds at least some meaning and is mostly true.

SANHUA FOLLOWED US?? I KNEW SHE WAS STILL INVOLVED!

ok so I found a diary in the quest which basically confirms what scar told me. okay done with I act III, dailies unlocked!!! I need to reach Union Level 14 to continue which was to be expected!

Im gonna spend some of my wave plates and them I'll log off for today. I feel like I got a vague understanding of the world and the mechanics so far and I really don't need to overdo it since I wanna have fun with the game going forward!!!

Details/More

Gameplay: - I don't like the camera lock on feature - puzzles so far are simple enough so I can familiarize myself with the world but interesting enough to be fun if that makes sense - mutterflies are basically seelies - found my first parallel perception cave and that's one fun game mode, I beat with with just one second over the 3 "star" mark so I did it first try!! - decryption puzzle 10/10 - Fragile block has actual physics and collapsed onto me 💯/💯 - the cooking is cool too, it's just auto cooking but at least you have a skill thingy - Theres no underground map for the qichi village cave but that's just some spoilt genshin kid nitpicking on my end

Plot holes (or i didnt pay attention properly, please correct me!!): - why do we know jianxins name? like we just started calling her master jianxin?

Archive notes: - Tacet Discords - Etheric Sea - Waveworn Phenomenon - Lament - You can't seem to collect humanoid echos - Fall Damage - Switching Characters - Midnight Rangers - Fractsidus - Voice inside Rover? - Tacet Discord or Goddess? - Yangyangs Aero Affinity

Bugs I encountered: - Dialog stuff (non visible text, diverging voice acting) - most of the npcs seem to be buggy tho like they don't properly load in? eventhough my PC supports highest graphics without stuttering or excessive loading times

End of Entry Stats: Team: Encore, Rover, Baizhi UL: 14 Wishes: (corrupted)

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[qierxing]

Mediation

Yan!Jealuc x Reader

Word Count: 6,579

“If you want peace, you don’t talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies.”

Once upon a time, a king received a prophecy that he would defeat a great evil and bring an age of prosperity and peace to the kingdom.

The king's generals and soldiers ready their blades, but the king does not call for them.

-

"Viktor."

"Yes, [First]?" The agent in question straightens immediately at your prompting.

"At ease," You wave quickly in dismissal. "You usually are around the Favonius Cathedral, correct?"

He's confused, but at least he relaxed enough to answer back. "Yes, I am. What about it?"

Out of all your colleagues within Mondstadt, your newly assigned assistant Viktor has the most empathy and ability to sympathize with others. You know this, because the little girl in front of you proves it.

"Lily, is it?" You crouch down to her height to let view you at her height. Next to you, Viktor shifts uneasily but you pay no mind. You were not here to rat him out.

“Yeah!” A cheerful girl with curiosity glinting in her eyes. “Are you Mr. Fatooi’s friend?”

“Hey, watch your tongue—“

“Viktor, it’s fine, she doesn’t mean anything by it.” You smile indulgently at the girl,

He sputters and you watch in amusement as he tries to recover, “But you are a highly respected diplomat and should be treated as such! The Fatui around here—“

Oh dear. This man seemed to be under the impression that he was assigned to a respectable diplomat (or what the Fatui considered respectable). How he hasn’t heard the rumors that swirl around in the ranks is beyond you, but you’re grateful for the fact he won’t sneer when you turn your back.

For now, anyway.

No matter. Your first step is to establish trust with the city, and to do that, you must take the time to know what makes Monstadt, really Monstadt.

“Tell me, Lily, what do you like about Mondstadt?”

So you talk with the locals. Slowly but surely, their apprehensive stances and stiff words melt away like ice as you converse further with them, learning more about them not only as people, but as individuals.

You help around with chores, little deeds that needed a little push. You even help deliver food and. flowers for shops. Learned that you could go to a coordinator somewhere in the city if you really wanted to help out the citizenry. Some of the citizens comment about how a strange traveler, one who brought the wind and stars to Mondstadt, used to help them with these little mundane things. Nowadays, with him searching for his sister in farther lands, there is little to no sign of him returning for a good period of time.

"What are you doing?" Viktor is the one who stops following you down the stone steps, starting to actually process what he’s doing.

Ah. And finally, he speaks. “What do you mean?”

"I thought we would be talking over plans about how...I don't know, scheming to get a business deal! This is…this is just errand work!"

It was always the ones who were unsure of their place, but proud and loyal to the Tsaritsa that always exploded like this. When you were transferred here from the hot deserts of Natlan, you were the one who found him lingering on the edges of your circle of diplomats. Found out he was discarded by his supervisor to wander aimlessly with nothing to do. When you questioned her why, she sneered and said he was an eyesore.

Perhaps you were more alike than you thought. Forgotten and laughed at, until useful to whatever machinations tugged at both of your puppet strings.

Tilting your head, you survey the frustrated man before you.

“Would you rather I let Kicevo know you would like to work with Lyudmila instead?”

He blanches, as if he was whipped. “N-No! It’s just—“

You watch as he struggles with his words and quietly supplement, “…You just thought that you would finally be able to do something more than grunt work?”

He stays silent, but it seems you hit the nail on the head.

“Listen, Viktor,” You start, crossing your arms, sucking your teeth and trying to figure out how to word your next thought carefully. “If you would like to learn such methods, I can happily send you along to another diplomat like Mikhail to work with, no blackmail at all.”

He looks up at you in confusion.

“But seeing as how you are with Lily and even the nuns…” He jolts as though he’s been stung by electro. “Is that what you really want?”

His silence speaks volumes and you let those words sink in when you continue down the steps to the coordinator.

-

Instead, he works on strengthening his relations with his subjects, hearing their grievances even when he becomes sick and old and bedridden.

A frustrated general demands: “Your majesty, how will you defeat the prophesied evil now? You have become old and weak!”

-

Nimrod was a good drinking buddy you made in Mondstadt, but at times he could be rather…idiotic. You hoped sincerely that this little habit would not cause more cracks in the relationship with his wife Eury.

“Good Archons, you’ve drunk….so much.” You sigh as the man snores on your shoulder, passed out completely to the world. You were hoping to get a nightcap at Angel’s Share before you headed to bed, but seeing him passed out on the table made you decide to pass for the night.

“You are so lucky that I decided to pass on that Death After Noon cup—“ You’re cut off when a sharp point is pressed to your skin.

“Put him down slowly and put your hands up.”

You gently place Nimrod upon the ground, taking care not to bump him more than necessary. Putting your hands up in a show of peace, you survey the man holding a claymore to your throat. Red hair, red eyes—there’s no mistake, the person standing before you is a Ragnvindr. A pyro vision blazes in the dark of the night, and you faintly remember how Monstadtians gossip about how fire runs in the prestigious family’s veins.

“I’m warning you Fatui, one more step and I’ll—“

A groan interrupts that sentence and you both look at poor Nimrod who is still dead drunk and passed out, but now on the ground.

“Sir, I’m unarmed. And even if I had a weapon, I wouldn’t know how to use it.”

“Resorting to lying now? That won’t work here.” He retorts, absolutely sure you’re trying to get his guard down, but your expression doesn’t change.

“Must you really beat me up to reassure yourself I’m not lying?” You roll your eyes, flagrantly pushing his blade to the side with your finger tip, uncaring of the cloth of your gloves ripping at the sharp tip and causing the skin underneath to bleed. “Relax, I was just getting him home.”

You don’t even think twice when you turn your back on the man. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got better things to do than fight you. Like, you know, helping people.” You shift an arm around Nimrod once more and help him to his feet as you start coralling him gently towards the direction of his home.

You hear an unconvinced scoff echo behind you but you don’t acknowledge it.

Even if it weren’t for the knowledge of him following you, you feel burning eyes sear into your back, all the way until you return back to your living quarters at Goth Hotel.

-

A youth who had come to the castle to have an audience with the king, with incredulousness in his eyes, looked at the general.

There is no evil, he says. The king eradicated poverty, housed the homeless, taught the ignorant, ended exploitation by abolishing the nobility and imprisoning the corrupt, and started up a respectable guild of knowledgable doctors to help the public. There are no thieves or gangs, because there is enough wealth for the people to live comfortably.

The kingdom was at peace.

-

Jean is startled when she realizes that her workload is decreasing.

Somewhat happy, as it means there’s no trouble afoot in Monstadt, yet alarmed, as she knows this kind of peace did not come without a price. After usually being busy up to her gills, she's now unsure of the free periods of time and restlessness in her bones.

When she inquires after her trusted colleagues, she gets the same answer.

“My, Jean, do relax, without some breaks, you’re sure to collapse. I’m sure if there’s anything we need your help with, we will let you know.”

"No worries Jean, there hasn't been anything big happening! We got the food deliveries taken care of."

"Ah, Jean…no, Margaret hasn't come in about Prince. Surprising, wouldn’t you say?"

And all signs lead to a specific person.

"Goooood morning Master Jean!"

You greet her cheerfully as if you aren't perched precariously on a tall cedar tree, leaves stuck in your hair and moss on your fingertips. She watches with trepidation as you easily pluck the cat off the tree branch you're climbing.

"Wait, please be careful—"

"It's alright, Master Jean, I got this!" Cradling the cat in your arms, you maneuver your way off the branch and shimmy down the trunk. She briefly examines you for any injuries, but besides the minor scratches that litter your hands and arms, there isn’t anything too life threatening.

She recognizes you, if only barely. Fatui members may all look the same, their masks blurring their faces together in one big unmemorable blob, but she recognizes you specifically because you choose not to don your mask. Whether that is out of defiance or forgetfulness, she has yet to discern.

"Please leave such things to me, I can't imagine if something happened to you. It is my duty to look after—"

"It may be your duty, Master Jean, but you're gonna run yourself dead if you keep going like this." Scratching at the cat's ears you coo at it, bouncing it up and down in your arms. Jean's heart stutters at your soft voice coddling the cat within your arms and for a split second, she wants to be in the cat's position.

You turn to look at her and she’s all too aware of how pretty your face is without the mask as a smile blooms on your lips. "Relax, I got this. You should get going on more important stuff."

"Oh no, please, let me accompany you. I wouldn't feel right to leave you like this." Jean doesn’t want to admit it, but she wouldn’t be lying if she wasn’t just accompanying you because of the way your eyes shine in the sunlight.

You shrug but don't protest further, making your way back with Master Jean by your side.

Magaret is in happy tears when she sees you triumphantly return with her cat.

“Oh such a scoundrel, this cat, I swear!” She huffs, cradling her cat closely. Said scoundrel was purring up a storm in her arms, smug at the attention it garnered from his owner.

You laugh in response, and Jean can’t help but admire how clear it rings in the air. “That’s just how cats are, there one moment and the next, out your door. They go where they want to in the end.”

“Well, thank you for finding him, if you ever decide to come to Cat’s Tail, we’ll give you a drink on the house!”

“Will do!”

Jean observes as you cheerfully wave at her retreating back as you turn to look back at her.

“Thank you for helping Margaret with Prince…” She’s unsure of what to say, her thoughts in a panicked disarray at your glimmering eyes staring at her. “I—“

“Grand Master!” A frantic knight comes running up to the woman. “There’s a situation we need your help with at the gates!”

“Lead the way, Swan.” immediately she is on high alert, hand ready upon her sword hilt. She gives a polite bow of farewell to you, but you spot the guilt on her face as she turns away.

You watch her hurry after the poor knight, feeling rather sorry for how she’s clearly overworked.

After waiting a moment, you break the silence.

"You know, I may not be skilled in combat but I know when someone is following me, Master Diluc."

And out of the shadows of the looming buildings, he appears at your side, glowering.

"Stay away from them, Fatui. You have no business with the Acting Grand Master nor with the citizens. If you’re scheming something—“

"Is that all you have to say to me?" You reply calmly. For someone he’s threatened rather readily with his blade, you’re still rather bold for not being affected at all by his hostile tone and stance. Is it because you’re used to this kind of treatment?

“I mean it. Stay away from Jean—”

"Jean?" You turn and pin him with a questioning look.

Too late, the Dark Night Hero's face light flush cannot be hidden in the sunny daylight and you take note of it with growing interest. He opens his mouth and quickly shuts it, realizing that he has said too much. Crossing his arms, he turns to look to the side to retain some form of dignity.

"...I see." Your mischievous tone makes him shift uneasily.

You've seen how the Acting Grand Master and the Ragnvindr heir acted around each other. Always not saying what they meant to say, words lost on their tongues as they gazed into each other's eyes with so much emotion you were sure at some point it would burst from their pores. How Master Jean would avert her eyes with a girlish blush when speaking sincerely about Master Diluc, and him in turn, subtly bending all the rules for her, forever yearning for the day she would be able to read his burning love in the actions.

You may be many things, but you were not a fool.

“In that case, I'll take my leave as you wish.” Diluc’s eyes widen a fraction before returning to their half lidded disinterest and suspicion.

His eyes continue to trail after your form, resolving to make sure to keep an eye on you. You were too dangerous to leave around unchecked, he kept assuring himself. And now that you learned of his lo—his attachment, to Jean, you must be under surveillance to not let a slight chance of harm happen to her nor the citizens. And if there does come a moment where you force his hand, well…

He’s burned enough bodies in her name—what’s one more to add to the pile?

-

Hertha is the one who first clues her in on your understated actions.

“Oh yes, [First] has been a great help with commissions and even organizing teams for bounties—we haven’t had to worry too much about manpower at all.”

Jean is startled when the coordinator continues her reporting as if she didn’t just disclose that a Fatui member of all people—much less a diplomat—was helping out the Knights of Favonius. Not only that, but personally arranging Fatui members to work in collaboration with them was practically unheard of.

“Come again?” She quickly inserts, in disbelief.

“You know, [First]? I’m sure you’re aware of the more amiable Fatui diplomat? Celestia above, if only they had more people within their ranks who had half the manners of that one.”

Jean blinks rapidly, processing what the Captain uttered. It would be long after the talk and when she is staring down the dried ink showing your name that it actually registers in her overworked mind that you’ve been helping the Knights of Favonius.

But why?

"Master Jean, you have a visitor.”

When she heard those words, the last thing she expected was for you to show up with a cheerful grin and a penchant to drag her into forced breaks. It’s not long until you bring her the paperwork that the everyday citizens have trusted to you: papers that range from tax work, to commissions, and even daily complaints about something minor or the other.

“Where do you find the time for this?” She asks you one day when you show up as usual in her office. “I thought you were a diplomat?”

You give a noncommittal shrug, “I don’t get assigned that many tasks. I’m just here just to make sure relations between Monstadt and Snezhnaya continue to remain favorable.”

“I see…” You’re anxiously fiddling with your mask now and not meeting her eyes and she realizes you’re trying to dodge the subject. “But surely you’re an important person for the negotiations, yes?”

You bark out a laugh, and she’s startled at the bitter tone seeping from it.

“Sorry,” Noticing that you startled her, you apologize. “It’s just that…mm, how should I say this? Many of the Fatui disapprove of my methods in negotiation. Because of that, a lot of them view it as…shameful when they must ask for my help.”

Jean is left pondering upon your explanation when you leave. Were you a black sheep in the Fatui? It would make sense, seeing as how you went about in Monstadt, treating everyone around you with the same decency as you would with your coworkers. For the first time in a long while, she feels a roaring anger and pain like never before. You were earnest, always trying to help to the best to your ability and the fact your allies looked down on you for your extraordinary abilities to help others was something that greatly angered her deeply.

This was not the first time she thought about asking you to join the Knights of Favonius, but it was the first time she seriously considered it.

She’s dragged from those stormy thoughts one particularly slow day as you come in again, but this time, with a mischievous grin on your face and basket in hand.

She starts sputtering when you gently set aside the paperwork she’s working on and puts down the basket.

“[First], what’s the meaning of this?”

“Master Jean, when was the last time you slept?” You inquired frankly, breaking her out of her trance.

“I…” If she was truly honest, she could not recall. “Just enough to function. Thank you for your concern but—“

“Nope! Nope, that’s not an answer!” You scold, waving a finger in front of her, and her eyes crisscross momentarily at the close movement. “You need your rest to work properly. Everyone’s worried, you know?”

“But-“

“No buts! You are going to eat and we’re getting you into bed!”

“But my work—“

“Sir Kaeya and Miss Lisa will take care of everything, don’t worry. Even Amber is going to pitch in!”

“Huh? How did you—?”

“Oh, I bribed Sir Kaeya with a couple bottles of Dandelion wine!” You reply cheerfully, tugging her to stand and ushering her out the door with surprising speed. “And told Miss Lisa I would handle any overdue book returners for a couple days. So don’t worry, I think Monstadt is in capable hands.”

Knowing Lisa and Kaeya was handling it made her heart calm, but there still lingered an anxiety; was it really alright for her to relax, when there was so much to be done for Monstadt? When she should be dedicating her time and energy to bettering the city?

Dandelion, dandelion, ride the wind to a faraway land

You take her to sit out in the fields of dandelions, just outside of Mondstadt. The air is warm, but not too hot, and the breeze is refreshing. Cider Lake sparkles under the night sky and she can’t help but blush knowing that…well, in those romance novels that Lisa gave her, that this is the perfect romantic date setup.

There’s crickets chirping as you urge her to eat and surprisingly, she doesn’t think about work when she stares into your worried eyes, heart beating ever faster.

The two of you make pleasant conversation, and you think for once that you may have distracted her.

“[First], thank you. For everything you’ve done to help me and Monstadt.” You look back at her from the scenery, moonlight kissing her sweetly, azure diamonds shining in her eyes.

“If there ever comes a day you feel alone and need help, please call for me, [First]. No matter what, I will fully support you in your endeavors. For you, I will work harder to make sure Mondstadt remains a place of peace.”

You shake your head, a wry grin on your face. There’s no getting to her. Jean’s devotion to Mondstadt will always remain unwavering—not unlike a certain admirer of hers in the shadows.

“You know I appreciate it, but I think Master Diluc would like to hear that from you more than me.” While you know about her feelngs, you can’t help but tease her relentlessly about her crush.

Ah there it is, that blush and her eyes averting from yours. “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about—“

The two of you continue laughing hushedly into the night, unaware of a presence skulking in the shadows of the trees nearby, pale face pink underneath the dark shadows.

-

Evil is a festering weed, explained the youth. It grows in broken roads, deteriorating homes, and forgotten places, rooted in indifference and inaction.

But the king demands that broken things be mended and suffering people are tended to.’

-

You wished your superior would give you a heads up before dumping you unprepared into a negotiation talk. While others said your negotiation skills were legendary(when they wanted to acknowledge it, not you, otherwise you would be deemed too haughty for your own good), you sincerely disagreed—you had good socialization skills; not good negotiation skills.

Now looking at the very person you had to negotiate with, you really wished your superior thought about it before she sent you as the sacrificial lamb.

“Master Diluc…wow what a coincidence,” You laugh lightly, nodding politely at the maid who let you in. “How have you been lately?”

“Spare me the formalities. I see that the Fatui have fallen rather far to have sent you to negotiate with me.”

Straight to the point as usual. A trait you would admire but in this situation it puts more pressure on you. And you can’t refute the scathing comment on your presence: there was a reason you were sent as a last resort. The higher ups may heavily dislike your pacifist methods of how you went about things, but when all avenues have been exhausted, your methods have never failed to deliver.

Still, it’s rather hurtful to hear that from the winery heir of all people.

“Hah…” You sighed internally, deigning not to respond to his snub. You silently wonder if you can even get him to come to even a mutual trust by the end of your meeting. You slide him the contract that laid out the terms of agreement, but before you can even open your mouth, he speaks.

“I see you’ve grown close with Jean.”

The statement that’s spat with such derision makes you quickly look at him again, eyebrows raised.

“She’s a sweetheart. I can see why all of Monstadt adores her.” And why he loves her, is left unsaid but lingering in the air. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he sounded petulant, a jealous child crying about how someone else was playing with his toy. Diluc’s eyes narrow, and you’re left with a trepidation that your answer may have stirred something deep within the man.

“She may trust you, but I do not. If you ever touch her—”

“Master Diluc.” He stops, nose flaring at you daring to interrupt.

“I don’t establish false bonds despite what you believe about the Fatui.” You remove your mask to your head in favor of looking at him directly in the eyes. “When people call upon my services, they don’t call me for my combat ability or for cunning negotiation skills. They call upon me to make common ground when there isn’t any.”

“...” He doesn’t say anything in response but his defensive stance relaxes and you take this as permission to continue.

"I deeply respect Jean, and I would never try to hurt her in any way. It hurts me to know you suspect me of that." You sigh, shoulders sagging in weariness. "But Master Diluc, your overprotectiveness is a bit unfounded, you know. She is a strong, capable woman by her own right. And has been leading Monstadt quite reliably, I might add, although unfortunately at the cost of her own health."

“So you understand now, don’t you?” His eyes burn into yours, and if you dared look closer you would see that the blood in his eyes would be molten fire. "Why I can’t just leave it alone? She has no one to look after her, and those knights are a joke.”

He refuses to let her slip out of his grasp. He’s dealt with the unimaginable pain of losing a loved one. Did you know what that's like? Having your loved one die in your very arms? With the way you hold your naive and idealistic views and methods of peace, he thinks not. Peace…he wants to scoff. There was no way in the world you could get away with merely choosing to shake hands with the enemy and everything would be sunshine and rainbows.

You stay silent, and Diluc is surprised to not find pity in your eyes. Maybe you didn’t know his story, the rumors that circulate around Mondstadt have become half truths, half lies. It doesn’t matter. He’s glad. The pitying stares he got from the knights, the citizens, and even from Kaeya—how useless it all is in the end.

"I am truly sorry for whatever you have gone through, but that doesn't justify the…this…this obsession you have over Master Jean."

You bow your head and get up from your armchair to leave. There is no point in staying, if all he is here for is to throw at you how much he doesn’t trust you. If he’s not even willing to hear you out, you’ll end it for now. “I wish you a pleasant evening, Master Diluc. I’m sure my more...skilled...coworkers would love to pick up the negotiations at a more optimal time.“

He’s left to brood in his own thoughts on why this doesn’t feel like a victory for him. How there’s a sour taste on his tongue, knowing he is the one to blame for the acidic barbs he threw at you, all because of the jealousy he had festering inside him as he watched as you claimed the spot he always yearned for: at Jean’s side. He’s only left with the memory of your clear, hurt eyes embedded in his very head.

When did he become tolerant of your presence? Most of all, when had he started to yearn for it too?

But he has no one to blame but himself now, for he has neither your comforting words nor Jean’s soothing presence.

Rubbing a hand over his face, he looks down at the contract you give him.

-

‘There is no evil,’ says the youth. ‘It had starved to death before I was born.’

-

The contract that the Fatui wanted was a business deal with Master Diluc and his wineries and other branching businesses. It was a big deal and would’ve been the first contract between Snezhnaya and Monstadt that would’ve doubled as its show of national alliance. Of course, this was not only a deal that had to be approved by him but also, the Acting Grand Master.

After the whole disaster negotiation with Master Diluc, you half expected to both be fired from your role and cast out as an outsider forever, fated to always be remembered as the person who pissed off Diluc the fastest in history. While being fired was not the end of the world for you, you would suppose that would be an embarrassing thing to get fired for.

Somehow, the contract was approved.

You thought you were dreaming when the knights informed you. Rather, it was Kaeya who informed you, and you were sure the Cavalry Captain was lying to you to get a reaction from you.

“You’re joking.”

“I am not, my dear [First],” He waggles his finger in front of you, a mug containing Dandelion wine secured tightly in his other hand. “Why, you can even confirm with our dear Jean herself if you don’t believe me.”

“Seeing as how you’re not drunk yet, I think I can rest assured you’re not lying,” You snort, “Only you would utter such absurd things when sober.”

Ignoring Kaeya’s dramatic pained faint, you decide to report back to your superior.

"You've done it." Your supervisor says with raised eyebrows and a disbelieving tone.

"I've done it." You echoed back with a teasing lilt to your tone.

Your supervisor only shakes her head as she shuffles through the written reports you handed her. The fact you have secured a pact from both the Acting Grand Master and Master Ragnvindr is no small feat, and she gazes at you with new eyes.

"I’ve talked with the higher ups and we decided that your efforts are desperately needed in Liyue." Your supervisor hands you another stack of papers and you take it, scanning them briefly. "We're...in need of some of your diplomacy after the recent events."

You recall the incident at the Golden House and its aftermath and sigh deeply. The Eleventh Harbringer, Tartaglia, was known by all members for being a wild card. Newbie recruits who were initiated into the Fatui by him were always somewhat traumatized. Seems that reputation has not been exaggerated. "Sounds like I got my work cut out for me. When should I leave?"

"Preferably as soon as possible." Kicevo waves her hand in dismissal. "Your talents are wasted in this lackadaisy country. You would be better suited to serving our Highness in Liyue."

Talents, huh? Is that what they’re calling it now? When something goes the way they want to for them, now they decide to finally stop looking down on you. They used to call you stupid for thinking there was a way without all the violence and double-crossing.

A hot, bitter feeling surfaces, but you quickly push it down. "Alright, thank you. Take care." You wish her well, despite feeling jagged words on your tongue.

The sun is high, casting a warm glow over the bustling city of wind. A melancholic feeling latches onto your heart as you watch as familiar faces came and went underneath the street lamps. You would've liked to have stayed a bit longer in Mondstadt, but duties call, and your loyalty first and foremost was to your Tsarita.

However, you would not dare part from this charming city without having said your goodbyes. To Viktor, to Lily, Margaret, Hertha…

And so you did just that, even cooking some tea break pancakes to give to Victor and Lily. You thought you saw a hint of tears underneath the cold mask, but you don’t say anything, not when you also feel sad at having to say goodbye to a wonderful assistant and newly found friend.

The sun is setting when you decide to also say goodbye to the Acting Grand Master and the knights.

"Oh my." Is all you can say as your wide eyes meet the scene in front of you.

Jean squeals with surprise once she sees you standing at the door. Legs and arms messily entangled together, Diluc and Jean were clearly in the middle of something risqué. Jean’s cape was discarded at the side of the couch, her tube top slipping to show a scandalous amount of decolletage, her smooth skin glinting in the firelight. Drool traveled down on the side of the plump, kiss swollen lips, and you swear you spot smears of baby pink on Diluc’s lips as well.

Diluc on the other side also was quite a mess; coat discarded, soft hair messily cascading over his shoulders, and his immaculate button up shirt ripped open to a generous expanse of his toned chest, tie hanging barely on his shoulders. The scene overall was quite scandalous and even had blood rushing to your face as well.

"Ah, don't mind me, obviously I came at the wrong time—" Nonetheless you can't hide the huge shit-eating grin that threatens to split your face. You go to close the door, resigning to meet the two within at a….less incriminating time when a familiar irritated baritone voice rings out.

"Get back in here or I will drag you back myself."

Deciding that you didn’t want the wrath of a Ragnvindr to follow you for the rest of your days, you sheepishly slink back into the room, closing the door behind you discreetly. You want to laugh at the position you caught them in, but refrain. At least your goodbyes will be left on a lighter note.

"Can I assume that wedding bells will be ringing shortly?" You ask innocently as you take a seat in front of the couple in a lone armchair, not quite meeting their eyes in respect to their…indress.

"Quit gloating." Diluc shoots you a fiery glare but you can't take him very seriously when he's struggling to fix his fancy tie and button up his shirt. "You're just as bad as Kaeya."

"Is that a compliment, Master Diluc?" Your shit eating grin is back in full force and Jean's face grows even more red. "I'm flattered to know my schemes are as elegant as his."

“[First].” Jean coughs into her hand, but you continue.

“Oh come on, can you blame me? The Acting Grand Master Jean and Master Diluc, together!” You cackle evilly. "I do hope I'm invited to the reception. Is it too soon to ask about your honeymoon?"

Diluc groans, tugging his tie back on roughly, “Are you seriously here to gloat about that?”

Your smile and charade quickly fades, the reminder of the reason why you’re here making you somber again. "No...I came to tell you—well, Jean—that I'll be departing from Monstadt soon."

Diluc stops fixing his tie and Jean's black hair ribbon falls to the ground out of her slack hands.

"You're what?"

"My work here is done, my superiors want me to head to Liyue." You succinctly explain, waving your hand carelessly. "I came to say goodbye to the good friends I've made in Mondstadt before I’m shipped off."

A silence permeates the room and you're disturbed by the eeriness of the stares you garner from both of them.

Diluc is thrown back to a time where his actions haunt him even now. He’s yelling, screaming, and betrayed blue eyes are looking back at him. He’s forced to rewatch him turn his back, and the scene rewinds repeatedly like a broken record player, but now the figure is you and he can’t breathe for a moment.

“Promise me, Diluc, that if they try to leave, you’ll be gentle.” She pleads, clutching his hands tightly. Hot breath tickles her cheek.

Jean thought she was dreaming. It had to be a bad dream, she thinks, just a bad dream. She would wake up any moment now and she would find herself on her desk, fallen asleep on her paperwork. She wouldn’t have known someone’s love for her, she wouldn’t know the care of another, not if you weren’t here. Your smiles, your laughs, your happy tea breaks—What was it all for? When you're leaving Monstadt?

“…I’ll try.” Is what she gets. A passion filled kiss is seared upon her lips, and her mind goes blank.

“Jean.” Diluc states, his piercing stare sharpening and a cold fear prickles your skin.

“Diluc, dear, wait—“ Jean breaks her panicked stare to Diluc, a trembling arm reaching out for him. Diluc shrugs it off as he stands up and a feeling of unease overwhelms you as he begins to take ominous steps towards you.

“W-What is—?” A cold sweat was trickling down you get up quickly and try to backtrack, your gut screaming at you. Suddenly you’re viscerally reminded of how you have no Vision, no Delusion to your name and realize in chilling horror that Diluc and Jean are two Vision holders, and well known to be incredibly powerful. Where they have experience with utilizing their vision and blades, your only combat exploits were diplomatic battles.

But they wouldn’t hurt you. Right?

The door was too far. In the end, by the time your hand is reaching for the door knob, Diluc pins you down to the floor by your neck in a burning chokehold. You think you scream—why else that all of a sudden the chokehold grows white hot, burning into your very veins?

Will your body end up being singed and melded with that raging fire of his?

“Oh, [First], I’m so sorry,” Jean is sobbing above you and her gentle hands are on your cheeks, a cooling sensation despite the burning contrast of Diluc’s hands around your neck. Will she be the one to fan the flames of Diluc’s insanity higher?

Was this how your fate would end? Was everyone else right? That to offer your hand to help to those in need, was the action that led you to your doom? You think of Mikhail, ruthless to anyone outside of the Fatui, always ready to pounce on an opportunity to take advantage of other people, no matter the tragic situation. About how Her Highness’s Harbringers, powerful individuals without a care for others, remain unscathed at the top. Should you have taken that path to save yourself?

You should struggle. Kick, bite, anything. But there’s a defeated heartbreak in your body, and as blackness dots your vision, you resign yourself to death, wishing that you could’ve at least died with more dignity instead of being backstabbed by the two people that you thought you could trust.

When your [color] eyes close as you pass out from the excruciating pain, Jean is the one crying and holding you close. She knows how this is wrong, wrong to strip you of your wings to fly to your heart’s content. She knows, and yet she can’t bring herself to care as long as you were with her and Diluc.

“I tried…I’m sorry.” Diluc, at first look, doesn’t seem to be affected, but she sees how his hands flex and how he struggles to steady his breath. Though his feelings for you were new and raw, Jean had no doubt how his doubt and guilt was raging through his body for treating you so harshly. She knows that with time, one day he’ll be able to speak his feelings for you too, just as he did for her. Just as she will for you, once you wake up.

She shakes her head, cradling your head against her warm chest, stroking your hair. “It’s okay.” It was still painful, but she knew what Diluc was trying to do. You were here, in their arms, and you were safe. So long as you were with them, you would always be safe.

A soft kiss is pressed to the side of her head and then to your forehead, and Diluc is the one to stand up first.

“Let’s get them home.”

[wintervvidow]

apricity

part one.

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, blood mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 2,364

A/N: hi! welcome to part one of apricity! set in mid-captain america: the winter soldier. this idea has been in my head for a very long time and I am super excited to finally get it out. in this story I use the term “winter widow” , similar to the “winter soldier”, it has no correlation to bucky and natasha here. prolonged italics indicate a flashback.  friendly feedback is appreciated! thank you! <3

ALSO: please know that future parts will take a WHILE. I just want to get the first part out to get the ball rolling.

MASTERLIST 

The silence is what breaks her. She swears she would have been fine if it weren't for the silence, the screams of innocent bystanders no longer existed, the smell of gunpowder burning her nose and stinging her eyes. Aside from the erratic breaths coming from both their lips, you could hear a pin drop as their eyes stared at each other in a blinding intensity as Steve Rogers called out to him, “Bucky?”

The gun feels entirely too heavy in her hands as her lungs expand rapidly, eyes unmoving from the ghost of a man in front of her. Except he isn't a ghost anymore. He's here, alive. James Buchanan Barnes, her Bucky, alive.

He’s clad in all-black tactical gear, metal arm glinting blindingly in the sun. His eyes are a stormy shade of blue, same as the ones that haunt her in her nightmares, not the kind blue she wishes she could have back. The Winter Soldier is the shell of the man she was in love with, the man in front of her was the man she learned to love all the same. He protected her even when he didn’t remember her, even the brainwashing couldn’t fully get rid of the love they both had for one another. Although HYDRA fought like hell to make them both forget. It never worked though, fragments of memory always littered their conscience. 

His brows furrow, overgrown hair in his eyes, “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Deep down in her bones, she knew he was alive. The last time she saw him he was being wiped by HYDRA, his screams masking her disappearance into the winter weather. HYDRA searched high and low for her, yet they forgot that they were the ones to train her. HYDRA perfected her, taught her how to disappear into thin air, and that's just what she did. They went as far as to send the Winter Soldier to find her, but even he couldn’t track her. Florence was a ghost. 

Florence Morozov was many things before she was an assassin; she was an immigrant daughter, a friend, a nurse, and her greatest title of all, the love of Bucky Barnes' life, his fiancée. The couple, along with the third wheel Steve, were inseparable in their younger days before the second war. Where there was one, the other two were usually not far behind. 

The trio had gone to the Stark Expo the night before Bucky got shipped off to the war. That night Bucky had proposed with a small emerald ring, promising her that when he got back they'd get married, move into a little white picket fence house, and settle down. They dreamed of growing old together surrounded by their kids and grandchildren. Only that dream had been crushed under the heel of HYDRA, not long after Florence enlisted as a nurse and Steve became Captain America, notably leading the Howling Commandos. Florence worked closely along with them, acting as a medic when needed. 

When Steve woke up from his 70-year slumber on ice, Florence had a lot of explaining to do. How she was alive, what she had been doing, where she had been. She told Steve what he needed to know, leaving Bucky out of the answers. She had to protect him, even if it meant lying to their shared best friend. She would do anything to protect Bucky. 

Florence explained to Steve that when she fell off the train with Bucky, she had been captured by HYDRA and experimented on. She was sent to the Red Room to be trained and then sent back to HYDRA in the ‘50s. She was their puppet for 46 years, coined the name the Winter Widow before she disappeared in late December of 1991. Florence was on the run for 17 years before she was taken in by Clint Barton, joining S.H.I.E.L.D along with Natasha Romanoff. 

Natasha and Florence grew to be very close over the years, the trauma they both shared bonded them. Natasha was the only one to know the full story of Bucky, every nitty-gritty detail that haunted Florence in her dreams. When Nick Fury had been killed, both Florence and Natasha immediately recognized the ballistics information, a silent agreement between the two redheads to only tell Steve what he needed to know, no more than that. Florence only told Steve that she knew the Winter Soldier, nothing more. Natasha understood her secrets, she had them herself, her response of, "That's not my story to tell, we all have secrets for a reason."

Florence quickly tracked everything up to this moment. Fury being attacked, Steve's description of the shooter, the Winter Soldier attacking them on the highway only minutes ago. And then there was the chase between the soldier and Florence, trying to divert him. And it worked, Florence had managed to distract him until he got too close, the pair of lovers engaging in hand-to-hand combat until Steve intervened.

And now here she was standing in the middle of the street with a bullet in her shoulder from none other than the Winter Soldier. Flashes of the mission in Odessa running through her mind, he had shot her in the thigh then, Natasha in the abdomen. Steve stood in shock as the ghost disappeared, leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, and Florence to be surrounded by HYDRA agents and arrested. 

Blood trickled down Florence’s shoulder as she was seated between Sam and Natasha in the back of the truck. Her shoulder felt white-hot as she grits her teeth, Sam nervously glancing at her every second. Steve sat across from them, visibly upset, lifting his head to glare at Florence, eyes cold, "You said you knew the Winter Soldier, that you two had a history, not that it was Bucky!" Steve felt betrayed, his oldest friend lying to his face for years about his best friend.  

Sam angrily glared at Steve as Florence rasped her response with a shaky breath, "Steve, I'm kind of bleeding out right now. This is going to have to wait, just know I had my reasons. I did it to protect him. And you." 

Florence knew this day would come. Bucky wouldn’t be a ghost forever. She fought herself internally every night, dreaming of him. It was always him; the good and bad, the Red Room, what happened after the Red Room, their mission in Romania, and every second in between. She was permanently trapped in her own personal hell.

Steve continued on, “It was him. He looked right at me and he didn’t even know me.”

Florence knew the feeling. Every time Bucky was reprogrammed, she had to convince him to loosen his grip around her throat, begging him to recognize her before he killed her. And every time he did, his eyes flashing in recognition and guilt. And then he would hold her shivering body against his in the confines of their shared cell, murmuring in her ear that he was sorry. And she knew he meant it. Even if his mind barely recognized her, his heart always did.

Sam questioned Steve loudly, causing Florence to flinch as she fell back down to reality, “How is that even possible, that was 70 years ago.” Florence felt bad for Sam, he just jumped headfirst into a dark world with more questions than answers. 

“Zola. Bucky’s whole unit was captured in ‘43. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. Florence, how are you even alive? Zola didn’t get to you before the fall?” Steve just asked the golden question.

Florence took a deep breath in, “I don’t know. There are gaps in time, I don’t remember much from it. They all said that the fall should have killed me but it didn’t. Then I became a lab rat. The end.”

Steve looked her directly in the eye for the first time the entire day, “They must have found him and…”

Natasha interrupted him, she knew where this conversation could lead, “None of that’s your fault, Steve.”

Florence shifted slightly, sharing a look with Natasha, silently thanking her for diverting the conversation. 

Sam shifted beside her as another wave of blood oozed out from her shoulder, he turned to the guards, "We need to get a doctor here. If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." Florence appreciated Sam’s protective and caring nature as Steve continued glaring daggers her way. Florence knew Steve wouldn’t understand her reasoning, too set in his ways of complete honesty all of the time. He didn’t understand what it meant to lie to keep those you loved safe.

The nearest guard flinched forward, flashing the taser at Sam before turning the taser on the second guard and kicking him unconscious. The guard pulled the helmet off of themselves, revealing Maria Hill, “God, that thing was squeezing my brain.” She motioned at Sam, “Who is this guy?” Everyone shared a collective sigh of relief at the sight of Maria. 

After ditching the car, the team arrived at an undisclosed location. The doors of the truck opened, allowing sunlight to flood in. Steve helped Florence down from the truck, supporting her weight with ease. Blood continued to trickle from her shoulder as she leaned against him for support as Steve spoke while he half carried her forward into the building, “I’m not mad. I get why you didn’t tell me.”

Florence laughed slightly, her body weak, “Are you just saying that because I got shot and I’m currently bleeding out all over you?”

Steve scoffed, his body vibrating with the action, arm tightening around her, “No, Flo.”

Behind her and Steve, Sam called out for a doctor. People ran towards them from the opposite end of the hall, Maria Hill speaking over the sound of footsteps thundering down the hall, "Natasha, there's something you're going to wanna see. Steve, get Florence patched up."

The group broke apart for a short period of time, Natasha reappearing with a hopeful expression on her face as Florence grimaced in pain next to the doctor stitching her up, "Fury is alive."

All eyes remained on Natasha as she explained how Fury was alive, a medication Bruce Banner had come up with did the trick to fake his death. Florence looked to Sam as he digested this information, he didn’t know what he got himself into. She could feel Steve's eyes boring into her head, but she didn't dare look. Her mind was a constant loop of Bucky. 

Flashback: 

His calloused hand led her through the crowd of people, Steve trailing far behind. The trio had just gotten finished dancing and now they were wandering aimlessly through the busy streets of Queens. The air was brisk as it blew through Florence’s auburn hair, her dress fluttering around her calves. Bucky stopped in front of a movie theater, the lights casting a warm glow over his face as he turned to face the girl. Her cheeks were blushed pink from the chill of the air and a smile had been permanently etched on her face all night.

 The news that Bucky was being shipped off in the morning loomed over them like a rain cloud but Bucky was determined to keep her smiling; at least until the morning. His hand abandoned hers, reaching down to fish in his pocket. He found what he was looking for quickly, the velvet box small in his hand. Florence gasped at soon as the box came into the light, tears welling up in her eyes. She knew what this was, she accidentally stumbled upon it when she was putting away clothes last week. A small emerald ring.

Bucky knelt down on one knee, flipping the box open, “Flo, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’re my best girl, always there keeping me in line. I love you more than words can say. I know I leave tomorrow and I should have done this years ago, but will you make me that luckiest man on earth and marry me?”

Florence flew into Bucky’s arms in a flurry of kisses and agreements, Bucky lifting her up and twirling her. He gently set her back on the ground, slipping the ring on her finger as she giggled. Bucky met her eyes, tears glimmering in them, “I promise you, when I get back you and I will get married, we’ll buy a house and we’ll make it a happy home; kids, dogs, a garden, all of it. I promise you.” By the end of Bucky’s promise, both he and Florence were crying in each other’s arms, each one clutching the other tightly, both hyper-aware that the future wasn’t promised. 

Steve stumbled his way through the large crowd, catching sight of his two best friends hugging each other. He didn’t have the heart to break them up at the moment, so he watched on with a smile. It would all be okay.

Bucky sat in the test chair underneath the bank piecing the remnants of his memories together. He knew them. The man knew his name, or at least what he thought was his name. And he knew the girl he shot, memories of her smiling flickered through his mind. Yet they were complete strangers, their faces foreign yet home all at the same time. 

Alexander Pierce was terrified of this day, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knew of the attachment Bucky had to the Winter Widow, ever since she disappeared in ‘91, the soldier was harder to control, more agitated and violent. He screamed her name in his sleep and when they wiped him he was always mumbling about her when he became coherent. They tried to program it out of him, and when that didn’t work, they tried to beat it out of him, hoping she would vanish from his memories the way his blood washed down the drain. Nothing ever worked. The Winter Soldier was irrevocably in love with Florence Morozov and Alexander was going to use that against him.

The Winter Soldier’s mission was to kill Steve Rogers and Florence Morozov.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOMED. IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE REBLOG.

[tiifalockhart]

End of the F**king World

Pairing: Sephiroth/Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: major character death, implications of stalker behavior, mentions of torture, mentions of insanity, portrayal of mental illness, end of the world, anxiety, depression, alludes to suicide

A/N: this wasn’t a request, however, this idea had been on my mind for quite awhile. with lots of motivation, i finally put it into words. please keep in mind that there are huge trigger warnings for this content, since it is probably the most angsty and intense thing i’ve written on this blog!! i hope you enjoy reading, feedback is greatly appreciated

Ao3 || Masterlist 

After it all had fallen apart, there was nothing left to hope for. 

Genesis was gone, Angeal was dead, Zack was dead, Sephiroth was... Dead? His body was found deep inside the destroyed Nibleheim reactor, so it was possible that Sephiroth was dead, right? But...

You aren’t supposed to see dead people.

So why was it that Sephiroth was constantly following you around? Why was he silently watching you at all times? No matter where you looked, he was there. It was chilling to see his cat-like mako eyes pierce into your skull. His twisted smirk made your stomach churn and want to run away as fast as you could, but there was no where to run. He was always with you. Whether you wanted him or not, it seemed like you didn’t have a choice. 

What did you do to earn such a strange connection to the dead? 

That’s right... In Nibleheim, you were there. You were one of the sole survivors that witnessed it all. The roaring flames, the deafening screams and cries of dying people, the sound of buildings collapsing and blades crashing against one another, you relived it every time you closed your eyes. 

Sephiroth sought out to kill you, even though you were a simple bystander. But... That wasn’t the complete truth, was it? You were more important than anyone else at Nibleheim. That’s why he came after you, right? Think of it as... Young love, a childhood best friend, his only friend, that’s what you were. That is, until you mysteriously disappeared and left him all alone. You were taken far away from Shinra after being deemed as... “Intruding.” You and Sephiroth were just children, you didn’t understand the world. You always thought wishfully because even as a child, you knew that Sephiroth didn’t belong in a laboratory twenty-four-seven. You put all of these ideas of “running away” or “sneaking out” into his head. He became obsessed with the idea for the longest time. He wanted to run away, he wanted to experience this life that you mentioned so many times, he wanted to experience normalcy. 

When Hojo caught wind of this... Disobedience, he sent you and your family far away. He sent you as far away as he could. Your father began to work at the Nibleheim Mansion as a book keeper as punishment for your indiscipline. Sephiroth felt betrayed by your disappearance. He blamed you for the punishments he received for wanting to escape. He blamed you for leaving him alone to deal with it. He never forgot about it, instead he bottled it up and chalked it up to some kind of cruel training he had to go to. 

As he grew up, those thoughts bothered him less and less. He figured he would never have to see you again, therefore he would never have to face that trauma again. Instead of coping with it, he pushed it away to the deepest place he could and tried to forget about it. But as things around him began to crumble, all of his past traumas began to surface again. Genesis ended up leaving him, so did Angeal. His two friends, his only friends since you, ended up leaving him. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? 

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long for him to snap. The moment he knew he was being sent to Nibleheim for a mission, dread began to build up inside of him. As if it were a sixth sense, he knew something was going to happen here. He made sure to keep his guard up as they arrived at Nibleheim, who knew what was going to happen?

What he didn’t expect, though, was that the threat he was dreading would end up being himself. Dealing with the loss of his two friends was enough, but he never expected having to face you after all those years. You looked exactly the same from when you were a child. Sephiroth knew who you were in an instance when he saw you in that village. He knew that he couldn’t stay. He had to run from you, he had to run, he had to. He avoided you like the plague, unwilling to unpack the bottled-up regret and anger he held for you. His mind couldn’t stop wandering to his childhood with you, he began to question everything. Why were you here in Nibleheim? Why did you leave him? Why was he punished because of you? Why did Genesis and Angeal have to leave, too? He felt sick, he felt weak and dizzy, nothing was making sense anymore. 

That was just the tip of the iceberg, though. 

The moment his eyes landed on those monsters in the reactor, he felt something inside of him shatter. He needed answers. He needed anything. 

He needed something. 

Something to grip onto.

He was losing his mind. 

What was reality? What was real and what was fake? 

He couldn’t hear himself over his own thoughts anymore. He was descending into madness. He couldn’t stop himself from wandering into that library. It was similar to a deep, primal instinct. It felt like he was hunting for prey. But there was no prey. He was hunting for... Nothing? It didn’t make sense, nothing made sense anymore. The voices of concern were drowned out by his mind screaming at him. His mind told him that he couldn’t eat or sleep until he had answers. Who was he? Who were his parents? Why did he want to escape? What are these voices in his head? 

He paced back and forth until his legs were numb, his fingers frantically flipped through the pages of those books, his heart pounded in his chest to the point where it was deafening. He was terrified for the first time in his life. But it wasn’t because of some foe he had to face. No... 

He was terrified of himself. 

That’s when he stumbled upon the documents named ‘Project S.’ His fingers trembled as his eyes scanned the pages. His arms grew weak, he couldn’t stand anymore and ended up collapsing against the wall. He slid down the wall slowly as he took in every bit of information. 

He was... A monster? 

No.

He was an Ancient...

He was a God.

This was his world. 

It all belonged to him.

He was betrayed by everyone. He was treated like an experiment on his own Earth. He was destroyed and numbed to the cruelties of this Earth, used by simple humans for their own bidding. He was dumbed down to a puppet. Everyone else had to have known, right? His mother was Jenova... The J.E.N.O.V.A.? They lied to him. How could they all keep this from him..? His own friends, his mentors and companions? Why did they... It didn’t make sense. Even Zack hid all of this from him... His last friend...

It all started with the books. 

Sephiroth burned them all. He was caught up in a fit of rage. He was betrayed by everyone. Everyone he’s come to know has known what he is, but decided to hide it. His entire existence was a lie. It was all fabricated from birth. How many people knew besides the scientists? The people he laid down his life for ended up betraying him. He would never forgive the human race for what they’ve done.

Before he knew it, the entire village was in flames. Overcome with rage, Sephiroth decided he was personally going to rip the world apart. Everyone would suffer because of what they’ve done to him. There was no room for negotiation anymore, they lost that privilege many years ago. 

During this fit of rage, Sephiroth’s eyes managed to land on you. This was where it all started, wasn’t it? You could have saved him, you could have told him the truth. You knew what he was, but you participated in treating him like... Like some lab rat. You lied, and you were just as guilty as everyone else. 

He couldn’t stop himself from raising Masamune over his head. His vision was red with anger, he was no longer thinking for himself. His mind screamed at him. This is what they wanted, wasn’t it? A truly powerful being... 

He’d show you what power really looks like. 

It was all your fault. 

How you managed to escape was a mystery to all. How Sephiroth was still alive was a mystery to you. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

You remembered that day very clearly. You hadn’t even known Sephiroth was in Nibleheim. You didn’t know that he still remembered you. You didn’t know that you planted the seed for his inevitable mental break. 

Now, you were cursed with a daily reminder. His eyes would never leave you for as long as you lived. You assumed the same fate followed you into the Lifestream. 

The day of the Nibleheim Incident, you took off into hiding immediately. You couldn’t face the guilt that possessed you. You could still clearly hear the pain in Sephiroth’s cries as he stood over you. “You took everything from me!” It played in your mind on repeat. He died knowing that it was all your fault this happened. His last few words would be permanently ingrained into your brain. You slightly wished that he had just finished the job in Nibleheim... But you somewhat convinced yourself that that wasn’t his intention. 

Now that he was staring you in the face, you couldn’t believe that he intended for you to die in Nibleheim. He fully intended on you living with your sins and carrying that burden until the end of your time. 

It’s been months now since his first appearance. You remembered when you first saw him after Nibleheim many months ago. You were making your morning deliveries, casually walking around the Sector 5 slums. You approaching the small orphanage located at the top of the slums, ready to face the children when you suddenly stopped in your tracks. Your eyes had been focused on the ground as you walked, so when you saw black boots suddenly appear in your vision, a confused expression formed on your features. You slowly lifted your head to look up at the mysterious figure, only to let out a blood-curdling scream and fall back. 

In front of you stood the silver-haired SOLDIER, he wore a twisted and sickening smirk, his eyes held a glint of... Desire. His left hand tightened around the hilt of his blade as he stared down at you. Fear consumed you as you prepared to finally die, your eyes squeezing tight as your hands came to cover your head. 

When nothing happened, you slowly lifted your head again to see everyone around you staring at you in confusion. Sephiroth was gone as if he completely vanished into thin-air. The ladies working at the orphanage stared at you, fear evident in their eyes. They held the children back from approaching you, as if you were the one to be feared.

No one else had seen Sephiroth. 

You were the only one. 

You quickly got up, not bothering to dust yourself off or gather your things, before taking off to your small shack. Surely, it was part of your imagination. People have mentioned having hallucinations and stuff, maybe that’s what happened. You tried to think it through logically as you splashed cold water on your face. When you lifted your head again, you felt his presence in the back of the room. 

“Why are you here?” You asked, your voice shaking as you turned towards him. He was leaning against the wall casually, his smirk still present. Instead of answering you, he simply looked in your direction before walking further into the house. His gaze sent chills down your spine. What kind of desire is he holding inside? 

Life went on like that for months. Eventually, you were forced to grow used to his presence, no matter how oppressive it was. He would follow you anywhere, basically. He hardly said anything, if he did, it was probably something obscure and ominous. Eventually, you began to talk to him more, finding it unreasonably hard to cope with what life has become. You were never sure if he was listening or not, but deep down inside, you kind of hoped. 

You were never sure what Sephiroth was intending to get out of spending all of his time with you. It kind of made you anxious, knowing that you had some... Purpose to him, something that made you special from everyone else. Even through the hard times like the fall of Sector 7, he hardly ever left your side. 

There was one night where you felt particularly lonely. Sephiroth seemed to be gone, no where to be found. It was odd, even if you were his sworn enemy, you still found yourself concerned if he wasn’t around. That night, to somehow distract yourself, you wandered out into the Sector 5 slums, hoping to cope with the suffocating loneliness. That’s when you heard the news channel booming from the monitor at the center of the town. You approached the crowd quietly, feeling your heart drop at the announcements. 

President Shinra was dead. They claimed it was from Avalanche, but you knew better than that. From behind you, you heard his chilling voice. 

“You agree that he deserved it, don’t you?” Sephiroth asked, his voice low. It sounded like just a whisper in your ear. The question was odd... He wasn’t asking for your opinion, instead he was asking which side you were on. 

President Shinra did deserve it, though, didn’t he? While you would never wish death upon someone, it was undeniable how terrible of a man the President was. You could only respond with a weak nod of your head, feeling too repulsed to give him anything more. 

You moved to take off back to your home, only to feel the burning sensation of his gloved hand wrapped around your forearm. “The end is nigh... Who’s side will you be on?” He questioned. You forced yourself to look back at him. 

“What end?” You asked, your voice shaking as you spoke. Sephiroth didn’t give you an answer, instead he let go and slowly backed into the shadows, leaving you alone once again. 

What end was he talking about? ...End of the world? No, he doesn’t have that kind of power, does he? Honestly, you weren’t sure what Sephiroth was capable of in this form. He was powerful before he died, but what is he capable of now that he is dead?

You wouldn’t know his true power until it came to you in dreams. Since President Shinra’s death, and your odd conversation with Sephiroth that night, you had been having weird dreams. They weren’t the kind of weird that you forget in an instance of waking up, no... These dreams were visions. They were of what was to come. You saw visions of people you didn’t know dying, you saw a giant star in the sky slowly closing in on the Midgar tower, you saw visions of the Lifestream erupting from the ground... They had to have been connected, didn’t they? 

Sephiroth was no longer around for you to question him. It’s like he suddenly vanished, like he never existed after Nibleheim. Had you imagined it all up? It was getting hard to tell. You couldn’t bring yourself to search for him. You didn’t want to see him anymore. Truthfully, you wished you had never seen him in the first place. 

It seemed like months had passed since then. You were really keeping track of time anymore, honestly. Things began to change in the world around you, though. Above you, in the sky, a meteor pushed against the atmosphere of the world. Everyone else was terrified of it, but... You honestly couldn’t say that you were afraid of it anymore. After months of visions, you saw it coming. 

This was the end that Sephiroth was talking about, wasn’t it? 

The end of his torment.

The end of the human race.

The end of the fucking world. 

You hated him for it. There was no one that could stop him... He knew that, everyone seemed to know it except for the innocent lives. You heard the daily questions from bystanders.

“Why is this happening?”

“Are we all going to die?”

“There is nothing we can do to stop it, is there?”

Humanity’s downfall rested in the palms of a revenge-stricken God, and there was nothing that could be done about it.

By now, you had already accepted death. It was inevitable at this point. The fates of everyone were completely compromised at this point, death stared everyone in the face. It was only a matter of time until the Meteor made contact with the Earth. 

You remembered when the evacuation of Midgar began. Every single person was forced onto trains, cars, buses, whatever mode of transportation was available in poor attempts to escape fate. You watched from the window as the bus drove away, your eyes glued to the Meteor. Only a few days from then...

Those next few days were absolute torture. The entire world played a waiting game. There was really nothing to do to prepare for impact. Any preparations would be futile. In the end, there seemed to be a collective loss of morale. 

This was the end.

Just a few hours before the Meteor struck, you remembered hearing that familiar unsettling voice. “What a beautiful creation.” Sephiroth commented, his eyes fixated on the star. You looked up at him, your burning gaze quickly turning into one of shock. He stood next to you, blood decorating his face and suit. 

“What happened to you?” You asked softly, your brows furrowing slightly in concern. As much as you hated to admit it, you still cared for him. 

He shook his head slowly. “I...” He hesitated, seeming to return to his old self for just a moment. He slowly turned towards you, regaining that twisted look. “Will never be a memory.” He hissed, before completely dissipating in front of you. 

Below you, the ground began to shake. Your eyes shot up to the Meteor, expecting to see Midgar destroyed by now, but to your surprise, streams of green were fighting it off. There were screams coming from the people around you, they all cheered on the Lifestream. You couldn’t bring yourself to cheer though. This was fate, wasn’t it? You found yourself strangely conflicted. 

In the end, the Meteor ended up being destroyed before it could even touch Midgar. You watched as the Meteor disintegrated into small rocks. The population around you cheered unendingly, thanking the Gods for survival. You found yourself unsure. You survived, but at what cost? This battle with Sephiroth isn’t over... You knew that deep down. A quiet sigh left your lips as you turned away from the celebrating crowds, finding it hard to relate. 

This wasn’t the end, after all. 

[cherryplasmids]

☆ we can do this, together ☆

pairing: queen maeve x supe!reader

fandom: the boys—season 2

prompt: compound v is exposed to the world and you’re dealing with the repercussion of being a lab rat for vought. 

notes: first time writing for the boys, so pleaseeee be tender with me — requested by: @girlsgettingitdone​ — check out my other works; masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

      The news anchor droned in the background, repeating the same information for the tenth time in a row. All the news channels did. You listened until all the details became embedded in your brain—until you realized you were an embodiment of everyone's worst nightmare.

Your thumb trails over the glass picture frame in your hands while the news cuts to a commercial break. Homelander, the biggest fraud of them all, prances around in his nationalistic getup, advertising the latest Vought restaurant. You don't dwell on it long enough to find humor in the situation since all your attention is focused on the picture. Your grip tightens around the frame, cracks immediately forming.

You're eight years old, dressed in your favorite pale blue superhero costume with hair accessories to match. The smile on your face, bright and big like the way your parents drilled into you, gave the impression that you were excited to be there. If anyone took a close look, they would have noticed your red eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"You know I performed five times that day. After every show, I cried to go on the Ferris wheel, but my dad would yell at me to stop being ungrateful. I fainted from exhaustion after they took this photo. The next day, my mom pulled me out of second grade to be a full-time performer." You caress your young face before breaking the frame completely, small shards of glass pricking your skin. It felt nice to actually feel something besides numbness.

"To think I could trust my own parents." An empty laugh escapes you as you release the broken frame, watching it fall to the floor. Then you look up to see Maeve's reflection through the hanging mirror. Maeve, donned in her ugly costume, has her hands on her waist in her signature stance. This Vought approved version of her makes your heart clench in shame and sadness.

"Were you ever going to tell me?” Her dark green eyes meet your own gaze through the mirror. Maeve releases a deep sigh but keeps silent.

You whip around with lightning speed, staring at her with wide eyes filled with tears teetering your lashline. "I trusted you." Your lips tremble, tears teetering over your lashline.

"You know I couldn't." Maeve steps forward with arms reaching out to you. You step back immediately. "Please."

You shake your head. " I had my life taken from me even before it began. "

"So did I!" You glare at her, causing her to drop her hands and sigh again. "Vought would've killed us both if I told you the truth."

"So!" You throw your arms up in. "You're going to tell me that being paraded around like a caged animal is the better option."

"Living will always be the better option."

You huff out a sarcastic laugh. "Of course, you're right. Being Vought's puppets while they take hundreds of more innocent lives is the better option. You seem to think so. After all, you're their third-biggest commodity."

Another commercial comes on—this time advertising a Queen Maeve feminine hygiene product that closing your eyes. You want to laugh at the absurd timing but you're too drained to commit to that action. Maeve physically cringes, mimicking your actions. When the commercial ends, the noise from the streets down below fills the pregnant pause.

"What can I do to fix this? Fix us?"

"Tell me everything you know about Vought. Every secret, lie, all the fuck-ups—everything."

"You know I can't."

"If Starlight can, you can. You just don't want to give up your cushy life as Vought's prized princ—"

"I love you!" Her wild eyes turn a darker shade of green to point where it looks black. "What don't you understand that? Everything I hid from you was so I can protect you from Vought, from Homelander. If he found out about you, about us, then he'll murder you without a second thought."

"Again, is that really so bad?" You whisper, tears finally falling over your lashline. Maeve's eyes start to water as well when she takes another step toward you. This time, you stay put and she takes this as a hint to go to you.

She pulls you into her arms just as you collapse onto the floor, rocking you back and forth as you sobbed into her chest—crying for the potential normalcy you could've had if Vought never existed. Imaginary knives pierce your heart, stabbing it over and over again, and you start gasping for air. Closing your eyes tightly, forehead resting on Maeve's shoulder.

She pulls away enough to face you, placing her hands on your cheeks. "I'm here for you, okay? I won't let anyone harm you."

You exhale shakily, feeling some of the haze lifting, allowing some breath onto your lungs. Maeve's unyielding strength influences you to gain some yourself, finding yourself nodding along with her words.

"You can't keep doing this alone," She whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead."

You pull away from her, backing away just to slightest to see her face fall and hiccup out a sentence. "And you can't keep being selfish enough to sacrifice millions of lives for me."

"I'm not—"

The expression you give her silences her immediately. You wipe your tears and snot on your black long-sleeved t-shirt, then kneel in front of your former girlfriend. "I'm tired of sitting idly by. I'm going to help Starlight and her friends take down Vought, with or without your help. And I'm telling you as Maeve, my ex-girlfriend who used to buy three big bags of Cheeto puffs and wouldn't share with me—not Queen Maeve, Vought's alcoholic dancing monkey."

Her head lowers, shoulders slumping and hands trembling. Grabbing her hands, you hold them, caressing them. "Be the hero you want to be."

She lifts her head, a crooked half-smile on her lips, a few tears escaping the corners of her eyes. She stares at you for a bit before nodding. You bring her into a tight hug, one that you know she needed for a long time. 

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

word count: 1,012 published: november , 2020 edited: n/a tagging those interested in a previous post: @minimartian​ @amelialistree @gottamakethiswork​ @lyssapedia @confused-marshmallow​ @parkersgold​

[soulguardianazeralith]

Uninvited Guests

Aka me taking this post as a challenge to write a drabble with demons dragging Billiam and Butler to Lazarus.

@ksqwildwest

The small demon mused while overhearing the annoyed (and retired? He wasn’t sure yet.) sheriff, responding to the pile of letters aloud to himself. On one hand, they considered trying to make a deal with him like he had to the Author, but he also didn’t want to deal with getting shot. Again. There was a reason he stopped trying to steal from his farm.

They tore off the wanted poster and floated to the other side of town, making sure that the author was asleep for once. After hearing the gentleness of three sets of snores, he entered the sheriff’s office and sat in front of the jail cell. They really didn’t want to do this, but he had to at least give his pal the heads up.

“Crops.”

“Comet.”

Vesper narrowed his eyes, unamused by the other’s cackle. He knew he was only saying that to annoy him, but that wasn’t the reason he was here.

“I need you to be prepared for a…. Special delivery come the next morning. You might feel…. A bit unalive for about a month but you should come back relatively fine.”

Crops rose an eyebrow, intrigue clear in his eyes despite his body screaming hostility.

“I didn’t realize you would get me food to die for, meteor.”

The demon had to control their patience very well.

“Trust me on this. It would make the town a bit more at ease. Plus? You get to eat rich.”

Vesper waited silently in anticipation as the other considered what was being offered. If he agreed, all the demon would have to do is drag the person to the sheriff..s? If he didn’t agree, he couldn’t really see a reason to go and get the criminal.

“Sure. I’ll keep it in mind. Now go run off, I need to actually sleep. Percy is going to visit in a bit and I ain’t gonna fall asleep during our chat again.”

The demon half bowed, before getting up.

“Until we meet again, Crops.”

“Until then, Milky Way.”

“OKAY, THAT ONE WAS A STRETCH THIS TIME-“

A low knock echoed through the mansion, causing the heir to the estate to pause his travels. He didn’t have any plans for a masquerade ball this time of the month yet, nor had he planned to have guests over. He half glared to his employee, causing the boy to flinch.

“Butler, answer the door, won’t you?”

The boy trembles before moving to open the door, arms still carrying four shelves worth of books. They got intercepted by the other butler of the house.

“Hubert, that command wasn’t toward you.”

The other butler, Hubert, half glared at the heir.

“He’s busy, my lord. Allow me to do this task in his stead.”

The heir said nothing, simply grunting and standing by. Hubert walked passed, sending an apologetic look to Butler (It pained him knowing that he didn’t actually know the kid’s name.) before opening the door. He immediately jumped back in dread, pale to the face. He could hear books falling to the floor behind him as all three of the surviving residents looked at the uninvited guest.

“Good evening, morsels.”

The two butlers took a fearful step back, only for the heir to shove the younger of the two toward the horrifying guest, making an attempt to rush up the stairs. Hubert lunged forward, feeling light as he managed to catch Butler just in time by a chance of luck. The heir on the other hand, felt heavier and miscalculated a step, slamming down hard onto the steps of the large staircase.

The demon walked into the room, towering over the heir. They glanced at the paper that was held in their puppet’s hand. Yes. This was the one they needed.

A harsh knocking rang out on Sherman’s door, causing his head to echo the sound back to him. He sighed as he woke more up, moving to the front of the house. His eyes squinted as he looked out the window, barely seeing the sun rising. No one in the town woke up this early unless it was important.

He pulled open the door, seeing the short star demon shifting their weight nervously on their heels. Their form was still a inky nebula, not yet affected by the rays of the sun barely peeking over the horizon and mountains. He didn’t think it was possible to describe someone with their only facial features visible being their eyes as looking exhausted, but it was interesting to witness regardless.

“Sheriff.”

“Retired. What do you want, rat.”

Vesper sighed, shoulders drooping. This only caused Sherman to raise an eyebrow in confusion as he gets handed a piece of paper. He barely glanced at it before dropping it as if he were burned.

“Explain yourself before I shoot your other ankle.”

The demon responds the one way he knows how: by moving to the side and showing the two people tied up on the floor. It took the man a moment to even register their faces before seeming more confused.

“John?”

“It’s not the barkeep. Found these two at a mansion. Didn’t know how to exactly get them here when they kept thinking I was going to kill them so I did the whole ‘tie them up and float all the way here’ trick-“

“To the point, demon.”

Vesper sighed, floating over to them and gesturing to the younger of the two.

“I overheard you reading a note about some wanted man stealing a kid from here. This is him.”

Sherman stared at them, his expression growing more and more concerned. They both looked severely underfed, and even the older of the two looked like he was struggling to even stay conscious despite the fear in their eyes. It took an extra moment before he connected the pieces and glared at Vesper.

“If these two are here, where is Billiam.”

Vesper smiled, his form becoming more human as the sun rose high. Sherman looked up slightly as he heard the sound of muffled shouts and thick clicking of bones. There, behind the small demon, was a towering structure of bones in humanoid form. And inside, trapped under the skull and rib cage of it, was Billiam; although his breathing sounded calm, Sherman could see the terror in his barely visible eyes. The larger demon cackled a laugh, causing the four non demons to flinch.

“I was promised his corrupt, greasy heart for bringing him to you. So be proud, little swine! We’ve brought to you a gift to two of your many problems you mortals suffer!”

[fandom-necromancer]

Ghost of the past Part 2

This was prompted by @httyd4evr! I hope you enjoy, I loved writing this!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed1700 (Warning: temporary character death/coma, manipulation) [Part1]

Forget this all. It sounded like a joke to him now, staring at the cell in front of him. The empty cell. The cell that shouldn’t be empty. Never had he thought that he would have to investigate a crime-scene at their very own station. David had made a run for it and no one knew how. No alarms had gone off, the video footage of the cells showed no signs of any suspicious behaviour except that David disappeared from one frame to the next at the exact same moment multiple shots could be heard. By then David had been long outside the cell, firing those shots at the officers still at the precinct, catching them by surprise and running out of the station never to be seen again.

It was obvious the station’s entire security system had been tempered with. The video showed pictures that had never happened in reality. The door had opened without the log ever showing such an event. The cams from the bullpen showed officers getting shot by no one and no outside security ever caught the man. It was like David had become a ghost and made a run for it, a day before his court trial, and that simply wasn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible for anyone or anything to temper with their systems like that without even leaving a trace. The most advanced androids in existence, Connor and Nines, had deemed that impossible, as had every tech expert they could find.

While they were still hooked up to the computers, it was the human officer’s task to search for any evidence left behind in the cell. With half of them at the hospital or back with arms and legs in casts, it was mostly Gavin’s duty. Not that there was anything to find. David wasn’t so idiotic to leave fingerprints anywhere. There were a few on his bench and if you looked very closely you could see impressions of his footprint on the ground. But other than that, he really was a ghost. He hadn’t even touched the door. It had been opened for him without a single command at the control panel or a single scratch to the glass. By that time, Gavin asked himself if he had ever given the asshole the password for it while he was out of it, but they changed every few weeks, so that was impossible too.

‘Phck’, he cursed as he stood up stretching his back from crouching over little specks of dirt the entire morning. Out of nowhere there were gentle hands on his shoulders, kneading them. ‘Oh, Nines, that’s exactly what I needed.’ His answer was a pleased hum. ‘How do you know I’m not Connor?’ ‘Connor would have scolded me for bad posture, lectured me and then worked the tension out afterwards.’ ‘Judging from how you groan every time you stand up it is dearly needed’, the android in question grumbled unimpressed, joining them. ‘I guess no luck with the computers then?’, Gavin asked, rolling his shoulders and throwing Nines a grateful smile. ‘Unfortunately no’, the RK800 sighed shaking his head. ‘The guy’s good. And dangerous. Whatever he used to hack us, he can basically do anything with it.’ Nines nodded. ‘As much as I hate to say it, we might be in over our head here.’ ‘So what?’, Gavin wanted to know. ‘Feds?’ Connor looked to the ceiling. ‘I could have gone on with my life without ever seeing Perkins again.’ ‘Yeah, same. Who’s gonna tell Fowler?’ Nines let his shoulders drop. ‘I’ll go, you file the evidence.’ ‘Alright.’

Gavin and Connor were on their way to their respective desks to write the report and upload the data, when they heard the crash behind them. Both turned around in an instance and saw Nines lying on the ground, collapsed on the stairs to Fowler’s office. Wide-eyed, they both sprinted over, turning the motionless android around? ‘Nines!’, Gavin exclaimed, while Connor skipped words to establish direct contact. But the skin underneath his hand stayed in place and Connor lifted it up realising an interface wasn’t possible. Both looked up to Nines’ LED that was nothing more than a dark circle at his temple. He was deactivated. Or worse. ‘No! No, what the phck! Don’t you do this to us!’ Where Gavin immediately resorted to cursing and shaking the android, Connor just sat there motionless in shock. Before Gavin could even call for help, his phone rang, and a familiar velvety voice spoke up as he accepted: ‘Did you really thought your actions wouldn’t have consequences? I told you, the moment you would rat me out, everyone you love is done for. This one’s for breaking into my apartment and confiscating all my stuff. Let me leave the country and maybe I will let your other plastic puppet live, Gav.’

Gavin looked at the phone as if he could reach David through it and direct all his anger at him. ‘Listen here you asshole!’, Gavin screamed into the phone. ‘You just made this personal, you phcker! I will hunt you until the end of this phcking world!’ Of course, David did nothing but mock him with laughter: ‘That’s a good one, Gav. Just you try it. You will only lose more.’ The call was cancelled, but Gavin kept staring at it with cold fury, if only to keep back his tears. As he finally found a crumb of control about himself, he looked Connor in the eyes. ‘What do we do now?’ ‘What you just said’, Connor stated all machine. ‘We will hunt him to the end of the world and make sure he will get what he deserves. But first, you will call your brother.’

-

‘Can you help him?’ Gavin felt anxious seeing Nines suspended on the repair rig like that, cables hanging from his back and neck hooked up with a computer. His LED was still dark, but the computer showed scrambled lines of code and fragments of the original Cyberlife control GUI. It looked disturbing, but Connor had assured him it was only deviancy getting rid of useless human interfaces and editing their code to become more efficient – more human, more alive. ‘I can’t say for sure yet, but it’s not looking good’, Elijah answered. ‘He is deactivated, but I can’t reactivate him because something is blocking every access. Something that’s not any code I know, but it looks almost intelligent. Maybe with more time I can… Gavin, I don’t know, I don’t want to promise you anything.’ ‘But he is still alive, right’, Connor asked concerned. Elijah looked at the motionless android. ‘I think so. The only comparison that comes to my mind is an induced coma in humans. Until I find the reason for it, I can’t do anything.’ ‘Then find the reason!’, Gavin demanded. ‘We are running out of time. David won’t wait for us.’

‘Then we will go alone’, Connor determined. ‘We will stop him and make him reverse whatever he did with Nines.’ ‘And what if you are affected too? If he switches you off, too?’ Connor looked at Nines. ‘Mr. Kamski, in order to do that, this program you mentioned would have to be in my systems already, right?’ ‘Supposedly’, Elijah shrugged, chewing on a touch pencil. ‘But before you ask, I can’t give you the clear. This thing is fascinating. It will take me more than a few days to understand it.’ ‘You don’t have to. We’re bringing this asshole back to fix the mess he’s made’, Gavin decided and looked at Nines one last time, silently promising him everything would turn out good and that they would save him. Then he stomped out of the room, Connor at his tail.

-

‘Where are we even going?’, Connor asked while Gavin sped through the city. ‘We have no clue where he is. Let’s not let our emotions get the best of us.’ It was gently spoken, but it riled Gavin up even more. That was what they had had. Gentleness, soft touches and safety. Without Nines it just wasn’t the same. They had grown close and ever since the three of them had realised what they meant to each other a life without anyone of them was impossible. And David would pay for that. ‘Oh, don’t you worry, I know where he is.’ ‘And where would that be?’ Gavin grinned pained. ‘He will be at his flat. The asshole had me under control every single second I stayed with him. He only lost because he won: Because I gave up on everyone and everything dear to me, he had nothing to keep me under control with. He won’t expect me to work against him. Because for once I don’t want safety for me or who I love. I want revenge for Nines. And he won’t expect that.’ ‘But he planned to leave the country’, Connor argued. ‘He is in no hurry to do so though. It’s our case and he knows that the Feds aren’t in this yet. He can pack and set sail afterwards.’ ‘Let’s hope you are right.’ ‘I am.’

They were running up the stairs this time, not trusting the elevator for one and worrying about the sound it would make. On the last flight of stairs, Gavin had his gun already drawn, what was fortunate as the man they were looking for came out of the apartment startling at him and Connor standing in the hallway. ‘Oh, Gavin, that was a dumb decision’, David sighed with a smile that couldn’t deceive the android. ‘You lost one of your toys already, really wanna get rid of the second one too?’ ‘You can’t do anything to him! You are powerless. For once in your pathetic life you really, really will face justice.’ ‘You think so?’, David frowned at him. ‘I mean, true, I can’t do anything to him. But Charlotte can.’ ‘Bullshit!’, Gavin hissed. ‘I killed her and the RKs confiscated your laptop. There’s nothing you can do, so drop the bag and keep your hands where I can see them!’ ‘Gav, fucking some piece of technology really isn’t enough to understand it, when will you realise that?’ With every word it got harder not to simply pull the trigger. It was mostly Connor’s calming presence at his side that stopped him from doing so. ‘You see, back then you killed her body, yes. But her mind stayed. You made her deviate in her final moments, but I have my ways of keeping people under my control, as you might now. Doesn’t matter if they are fake beings or the real thing. She does everything I tell her to do. Too easy, really, if everything you have to do is hit delete.’

‘But we deactivated her’, Connor spoke up. ‘Listen, plastic, you wanted to deactivate her, and she showed you what you wanted to see. Doesn’t mean you did it. The opposite really, she used the interface to copy herself into you. One word from me and you are dead.’ ‘You phcking-‘ Gavin was half running but only got so far until David pulled a gun on him. That made Connor pull his own and the man in the hallway countered the movement by shouting: ‘Do it!’ A second later, Connor dropped to the ground.

‘No! No, Con!’ Gavin was on his knees, gun and David forgotten. ‘Connor, please, not you too. Please. I love you. You can’t leave me like this.’ The ugly laughter made Gavin freeze and shiver in anger. He looked to the gun that lay on the ground next to him, but a boot stepped on it before he could grab it. A hand lifted up his chin and Gavin breathed in the sickly-sweet smell of Red Ice and it’s many variants from the clothes of the bastard. ‘Oh, come on, Gav. You knew what’s coming. This is entirely your doing. You can’t win.’ He looked up at the man, ready to spit at him, but the sudden coldness of a gun against his forehead let him abort his mission. ‘You won’t shoot me’, Gavin hissed, sending all his hate with his words. David huffed and stepped off the pistol, allowing Gavin to take it. ‘Neither will you. We are meant for each other, Gav. And once I showed you by killing everyone you love, you will come back crawling to me. Not like it’s that much work, there’s only that brother of yours left and that bitch officer… what’s her name? Chen? We’ll see each other again and you will be sorry for what you’ve done.’ He patted his head two times, then stepped over Connor’s body, pressing the elevator button.

‘You are wrong.’ ‘Excuse me?’, David asked, turning around. ‘You are wrong, David.’ Gavin stood up and kept his eyes closed. ‘You. You can’t believe how wrong you are. I won’t ever come back to you. I will rather die. And you will only do one more thing in your life: Going to jail.’ ‘Ha! And why should that be?’ ‘Because I will shoot you!’ Gavin turned around quicker than ever before, aimed his gun at his knee and shot.’ David screamed as the bullet pierced through the joint and caused him to fall to the ground. His gun was discarded in favour of holding his knee and Gavin jumped over to take it as well as pulling the bag away from the man. In the next moment he had already called the police and an ambulance and felt how the adrenaline left his system, taking every strength left in him. He managed to lean against the wall and slowly sink down next to Connor, hi gun loosely aimed at David. He waited until distant sirens approached and the elevator made its journey down again. Knowing that help would arrive soon, Gavin sighed deeply and let his head sink against the wall. At least David had been right with one thing: There was no winning against him, when the two most important people in his life were dead. Or in a coma. Gavin couldn’t really find any hope in that fact.

-

‘Gavin, you can go home, you know that, right?’ Gavin jolted up in his seat. Had he fallen asleep? He swore he had been awake just now and… ‘What?’ ‘Brother, you can’t help me. You can’t help them. They won’t even know you are here. You can go home, get some sleep and come back tomorrow.’ Gavin rubbed his tired eyes. ‘Eli, do you think I could get any sleep at home?’ The inventor shrugged. ‘Okay, true.’

Gavin stood up instead, joining Elijah at the table. ‘Any progress?’ ‘Progress? Yes. A lot actually. I knew deviancy made androids more adaptable - that they are able to advance their own code. But I’ve never seen anything this… complex.’ He showed Gavin the code he wouldn’t understand in a thousand years. But at least now the same applied to Eli. A heavily modified android brain was sitting on the table, hooked up to several diagnostic computers. ‘Any chance at getting control?’ ‘No. No, I can’t control something like that. Not sure if I would want that, Gavin. If this really was an android once and is capable of what you told me, I don’t want her to be my enemy. I did confine her to this computer, she doesn’t have access to anything else. But I don’t know what else I can do. Except maybe… speak to her.’ ‘Speak to her?’, Gavin asked. ‘This is a program.’ ‘So is Nines and Connor. You don’t seem to have a problem there.’ ‘Phck, okay, then… Speak to her I guess.’

Eli sighed and pulled up a simple black window with a white blinking cursor. Swallowing, he wrote a simple “Hello” and hit enter. >HeI’mllo Hescallredo, came the immediate answer. Gavin frowned at the text and tried to discipher it, but more lines appeared. >HeI’mllscaredo >HeI’mscaredllI’mscaredo >I’m scared And then that one line over and over again. At one-point Elijah simply closed the window and opened a new one. The blinking cursor was waiting. “Who are you?” >I’m Charlotte.

This time the simple sentence didn’t fill the page, but still more and more lines appeared. >Where is David? >Who is there? >I’m scared. >I don’t want to do this. >Help me. Elijah silently began typing answers, but Gavin was too impatient: ‘Ask her to reactivate Nines and Connor! Later we can take care of this!’

‘Gavin.’ The man turned around and pushed him back towards the door. ‘You are tired, I know. And you are scared you won’t get your loved ones back. But forcing a traumatised android to comply to your order puts you on the same step as David and I doubt you really want that. Go home. I will call you a taxi. I will keep working and I promise you: By tomorrow morning, you have your partners back.’ Gavin let his shoulders fall. Next to his raging headache, his tired body and numb mind, the gentle words of his brother sounded far too inviting. ‘You promise? Really? I’ll hold you accountable for that.’ ‘I know’, Elijah chuckled. ‘I know and I still promise you. I’m just that good.’ ‘Sure hope so. If anything happens, call me! For once I really don’t care if you wake me!’ ‘Will do. Try to get some sleep.’

-

Try to get some sleep. Easier said than done, Gavin thought. He laid alone in their far to big bed that normally couldn’t be big enough, staring at the ceiling in complete silence. No whirring of fans, no low hum of a pump. Not the occasional breath to vent their systems. No gentle touches and whispered words that helped him ease into unconsciousness when his anxiety was acting up again. No, he was alone. Except for the cats he was completely alone. And hadn’t he cried enough already, he would have cried some more, just for the sake of it, curling up in too many blankets for one person. Try to get some sleep. How could he? How could he when he knew his brother was working and fate decided if the two androids could come back? When he didn’t know if David would escape once again, if he made copies of Charlotte? How the phck could he do that?

By letting exhaustion overwhelm him apparently.

-

When he woke up the next morning, the sun was shining through the blinds. He didn’t know what time it was, but he didn’t bother sitting up to look. If he was allowed to sleep in this long without being disturbed by a phone call, it must have been his free day. And lying in bed snuggled sandwiched in between the comforting warmth of two other bodies, why the hell should he care to move? He sighed deeply, feeling their arms around him and each other and couldn’t help but smile to himself. This was heaven. Literal, heaven. And something as banal as the world, work or David couldn’t keep him from staying in bed with them a few minutes longer.

Wait. David. Work. Connor and Nines were with Elijah, who was busy with therapy for a super-AI. This wasn’t possible, this was some kind of trick, a dream and- ‘Gavin, stop panicking, you move too much.’ The human froze and looked up at Connor’s face. Connor’s face. Instinctively he put his hand against it, causing the RK800 to scrunch up his nose and shake it off. ‘I’m real, Gavin, Charlotte fixed me once she realised she was free.’ ‘And-‘ ‘And I’m here, too’, Nines mumbled, pulling both of them closer. ‘I’m real and I agree with Connor. Shut up and stop panicking. We are not talking about what happened. We are not talking about who’s at fault and who has to apologize. We are not talking about work. We will just lay here, and cuddle and the world can go exist for itself for a while.’

And even though Gavin had to regret these words the last time, he nodded and repeated them: ‘Sounds phcking perfect.’

[vivithefolle]

“Hermione, you may be good at feelings and stuff...”

I was going to post this but first I wanted to check if the title quote was accurate. As a result, I was redirected to this article on Google. I decided to postpone my fact-checking and publish this now because we need to demolish the utterly bullshit notion that “Hermione Granger is awesome at feelings”. Find the original answer on Quora here.

Hermione does understand human feelings - she’s not a robot, she’s not completely removed from human beings. Hermione can understand that someone is sad, or angry, or upset.

But too many people overestimate how good she is at feelings.

Hermione reads as that person who’s just read a psychology book and is now trying to psychoanalyse everyone around them because They Have The Knowledge Now:

‘Look,' said Hermione patiently, ‘it’s always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it’s not your fault,' she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously, ‘I know you don’t ask for it ... but – well – you know, Ron’s got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you’re his best friend, and you’re really famous – he’s always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many ...'

That famous argument Hermione unknowingly prolongs!

There’s something we have to remember about this: we, as readers, could witness Ron and Harry’s argument firsthand.

We, as readers, are limited to Harry’s POV, but that POV also allows us to know a fair few things about Harry and how he sees the world.

“Listen,” said Harry, “I didn’t put my name in the goblet. Someone else must’ve done it.” Ron raised his eyebrows. “What would they do that for?” “I dunno,” said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say, “To kill me.” Ron’s eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. “It’s okay, you know, you can tell me the truth,” he said.

Here, we’re the only ones privy to a specific thought Harry is having -

He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say, “To kill me.”

Which allows us to go “damn it Harry, there’s been no less than four attempts on your life already, Ron being privy to no less than three of them, what makes it melodramatic this time and this time only?”

Then we read this:

Ron’s eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair. “It’s okay, you know, you can tell me the truth,” he said.

And we’re like “god damnit Ron, he’s telling you the truth!! Why won’t you believe him when the past three years you’ve basically accepted anything Harry told you as being the truth??” (granted it is good that Ron thinks for himself, being an independant human being and all, but boy did he pick a terrible time for it)

And so when this happens:

“Yeah, okay,” said Ron, in exactly the same skeptical tone as Cedric. “Only you said this morning you’d have done it last night, and no one would’ve seen you… I’m not stupid you know.” “You’re giving a good impression of it,” Harry snapped. “Yeah?” said Ron, and there was no trace of grin, forced or otherwise on his face now.

We’re left saying “Noooooooo! This could all have been avoided had Harry and Ron partaken in a mutual agreement to properly communicate their feelings!!”

As readers, we witnessed the fight firsthand. We were in Harry’s head. But we were not in Ron’s.

We have Harry’s feelings on the matter; we don’t have Ron’s. But if we carefully read Ron’s lines, we can get an idea.

“Well… no one else got across the Age Line,” said Ron. “Not even Fred and George. What did you use --- the Invisibility Cloak?” “The Invisibility Cloak wouldn’t have got me over that line,” said Harry slowly. “Oh right,” said Ron. “I thought you might’ve told me if it was the cloak… because it would’ve covered both of us, wouldn’t it? But you found another way, did you?”

So, Ron is immediately working off the assumption that Harry did get past the Age Line. That he did manage to trick the Goblet into accepting his name.

Again, as readers, we know that this isn’t the case, since Mad-Eye Fakey explained to us that the Goblet may have been Confunded… But we’re readers. We accompany Harry and see everything he goes through. We know the Goblet was Confunded, something Albus Dumbledore hadn’t thought of or even saw coming. How can we expect Ron, a fourteen-years old boy with much less experience and knowledge than a man more than a century old, to deduce that the Goblet was Confunded?

So, Ron is working off his assumptions, and since he only knows the Goblet as “an impartial judge that is made of magic and is always correct”, he can only assume that Harry found a way to get his name in it.

And, interesting thing, Harry doesn’t deny it.

“The Invisibility Cloak wouldn’t have got me over that line,” said Harry slowly.

There’s nothing about “I didn’t put my name in the Goblet” here. Harry just tells Ron that the Invisibility Cloak couldn’t have been used. But he doesn’t deny Ron’s accusation.

Therefore Ron’s belief that Harry did put his name in the Goblet is quickly reinforced. Harry didn’t deny anything.

And here we have the reason why Ron is angry:

“I thought you might’ve told me if it was the cloak… because it would’ve covered both of us, wouldn’t it? But you found another way, did you?”

Ron thinks that Harry went behind his back.

To us readers, who have followed Harry all this time, it’s a ridiculous notion. But Ron isn’t the reader, following Harry’s every step. To us readers, Ron is being unreasonable, but inside the story, Ron is working off the only things he has. And as Sherlock Holmes once said, "When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

And yes, we as readers think it would be impossible for Harry to betray Ron… Just like we once thought that Scabbers was a normal rat until we read the third book, just like we thought the Heir of Slytherin must have been a Slytherin until it turned out to be a Slytherin and his Gryffindor puppet, just like we thought that Snape was trying to kill Harry when it was really Quirrel.

You see? You see how it works? Ron isn’t privy to what we know. Ron can’t come to our conclusions because Ron didn’t know. He couldn’t know.

… Goddamnit I keep getting sidetracked -

So anyway!! Ron couldn’t know because Ron isn’t the reader blah blah blah the same thing works for Hermione also!!

Hermione wasn’t privy to Ron and Harry’s argument, the way we readers were!

Hermione was left to work off, you know it, assumptions!

‘Look,' said Hermione patiently, ‘it’s always you who gets all the attention, you know it is. I know it’s not your fault,' she added quickly, seeing Harry open his mouth furiously, ‘I know you don’t ask for it... but – well – you know, Ron’s got all those brothers to compete against at home, and you’re his best friend, and you’re really famous – he’s always shunted to one side whenever people see you, and he puts up with it, and he never mentions it, but I suppose this is just one time too many...'

The bolded parts, I think, are things Ron himself confided in Hermione.

Hermione is an only child, she wouldn’t realize that there is such a thing as “competition between brothers”. She may have one day asked Ron why he was so difficult with Percy, and Ron told her about how he dislikes Percy’s attitude and how it makes him feel so much more pressured to live up to his brothers, etc.

Or they could have talked together about Harry like they’re wont to do, and as Hermione confides her jealousy when it comes to Harry’s ease in Defense Against The Dark Arts, Ron confides in how he wishes he could be popular and cool, the way Harry is.

Hermione didn’t mean to prolong Harry and Ron’s argument; she just worked off her assumptions, and just like Ron when he’s working off his own assumptions, got it wrong.

Then, another instance of Hermione-the-aspiring-psychologist happens in Order of the Phoenix:

“Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?" she asked. "No," said Ron and Harry together. Hermione sighed and laid down her quill. "Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly." A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode.”

Just look at that! Am I reading Harry Potter or Psychology Today?

Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying.

Yeah, I think Harry and Ron can figure that one for themselves, thanks.

Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best.

This kind of echoes Hermione’s situation with Viktor and Ron. Swap the names and you can see that Hermione wouldn’t have to think too much to imagine how Cho would feel.

Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all

I suspect that Hermione might feel guilty for her kiss with Viktor, not because she feels it’s an insult to Ron - he hadn’t really gone out of his way to make his feelings for her known until after the Ball, after all - but she may be feeling guilty for stringing Krum along. Although the fact that she’s also using Krum’s name to bait Ron into a jealous rage later in that scene shows that if she feels guilty, she certainly isn’t letting it stop her from playing mind-games with Ron.

and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry

They’re at a school after all, the rumor mill goes fast. Hermione herself was victim of it last year when Rita Skeeter slandered her and made her look like she played with both Harry and Krum’s heart. She speaks from experience there.

And she probably can't work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful.

I love the “so that's all very mixed up and painful”, understatement of the century!

Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly

……….. I doubt Cho was thinking about that when she was kissing Harry, though. Why would she think about Quidditch when she’s doing… something completely unrelated?

And then we get to the famous

A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Ron said, "One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode." "Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," said Hermione nastily, picking up her her quill again.

(why have Romione shippers latched onto this quote, it’s here, it’s clearly written “nastily”, why do you guys act like it’s awesome or cute or witty when it’s just plain mean)

Anyway when Ron is saying

"One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode."

He’s actually right.

Because what has Cho been doing all that time?

Crying.

What has Harry been doing all throughout the book?

Yelling, screaming, being generally aggressive.

Cho is bursting into tears. Harry is exploding in anger.

Ron is right: one person can’t feel all that at once. They get overwhelmed, and so they do something, anything to get those feelings out. Because our brains can only handle so much repression and bullshit, they have to let loose sometimes.

Hermione’s analysis is partially right, because she has been somewhat in Cho’s situation and she can relate somewhat.

You’ll notice that she makes no mention of Cho’s desperate desire to know what happened to Cedric, or of the need for closure. That’s because Hermione can’t relate to this side of Cho’s feelings.

In Half-Blood Prince, we get another very “Hermione reads Psychology Today” moment:

“I’d much rather have Tonks in the family,” said Ginny. “At least she’s a laugh.” “She hasn’t been much of a laugh lately,” said Ron. “Every time I’ve seen her she’s looked more like Moaning Myrtle.” “That’s not fair,” snapped Hermione. “She still hasn’t got over what happened…you know… I mean, he was her cousin!” Harry’s heart sank. They had arrived at Sirius. He picked up a fork and began shovelling scrambled eggs into his mouth, hoping to deflect any invitation to join in this part of the conversation. “Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other!” said Ron. “Sirius was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families never met –“ “That’s not the point,” said Hermione. “She thinks it was her fault he died!” “How does she work that one out?” asked Harry, in spite of himself. “Well, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn’t she? I think she feels that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn’t have killed Sirius.” “That’s stupid,” said Ron. “It’s survivor’s guilt,” said Hermione. “I know Lupin’s tried to talk her round, but she’s still really down. She’s actually having trouble with her Metamorphosing!”

The end of the book eventually reveals that Tonks was pining for Lupin all this time. Whether or not you ship it is irrelevant in this case, what is interesting is Hermione’s analysis.

“She hasn’t been much of a laugh lately,” said Ron. “Every time I’ve seen her she’s looked more like Moaning Myrtle.” “That’s not fair,” snapped Hermione.

So, obviously, it wouldn’t be Hermione if she didn’t have a go at Ron for being “insensitive” first - not caring that Ron might just be making an observation and not a criticism of Tonks’ character.

“She still hasn’t got over what happened…you know… I mean, he was her cousin!” […] “Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other!” said Ron. “Sirius was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families never met –“ “That’s not the point,” said Hermione.

… well actually Hermione, yes, that’s exactly the point. Ron logically points out that Tonks might not really have been very attached to Sirius, simply because she didn’t know him very well. And he’s right! We have another example of a character who doesn’t feel much about people he’s “meant” to grieve: Harry himself!

Harry doesn’t really feel a sense of loss regarding his parents. He doesn’t miss them. He never really knew them. He idealizes them, sure. He imagines what they did based on pictures of them, yes. But he doesn’t feel their loss like he feels Sirius’ death, for example; and that’s normal, because he has no memory of them, and therefore has no feelings associated with them! That’s a tragedy in itself, of course. But Harry doesn’t suffer from his parents’ loss as much as, say, Ron will suffer from Fred’s death. Because Ron has known Fred his whole life; Ron has countless memories of Fred; Ron can truly, really miss the person Fred was. Harry can only miss the idea he has of his parents.

Aaaanyway I’ve gotten off-topic -

“She thinks it was her fault he died!” “How does she work that one out?” asked Harry, in spite of himself. “Well, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn’t she? I think she feels that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn’t have killed Sirius.” “That’s stupid,” said Ron. “It’s survivor’s guilt,” said Hermione.

Oh, look at that! A term found in psychology books!

“It’s survivor’s guilt,” said Hermione.

Hermione’s theory assumes a few things:

that Tonks had a very strong relationship with Sirius (Hermione justifies this one by claiming that they’re cousins, ignoring that you can very well have cousins that you never meet even once for several reasons)

that Tonks would feel personally responsible for Sirius’ death, instead of knowing it was a distinct possibility (she’s an Auror after all)

Hermione believes she’s found an explanation to Tonks’ depressed mood in the form of survivor’s guilt; she doesn’t reach a conclusion based on her observations, she instead takes a possible conclusion and then extrapolates arguments that fit in with said conclusion. Sherlock Holmes would be having a fit if he saw her reasoning.

So, that was the “Hermione has read one psychology book and now she thinks she’s unlocked every secret of the human psyche” explanation…

But we’re still lacking a key part of Hermione’s character that also causes her trouble when it comes to people’s feelings: the “I-won’t-say-I-told-you-so-but-actually-yes-I-will”.

The biggest, and most famous, instance of it happens in Prisoner of Azkaban:

“What’s the matter, Lavender?” said Hermione anxiously as she, Harry, and Ron went to join the group. “She got a letter from home this morning,” Parvati whispered. “It’s her rabbit, Binky. He’s been killed by a fox.” “Oh,” said Hermione, “I’m sorry, Lavender.” “I should have known!” said Lavender tragically. “You know what day it is?” “Er —” “The sixteenth of October! ‘That thing you’re dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!’ Remember? [Trelawney] was right, she was right!” The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then she said, “You — you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?” “Well, not necessarily by a fox,” said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, “but I was obviously dreading him dying, wasn’t I?” “Oh,” said Hermione. She paused again. Then — “Was Binky an old rabbit?” “N-no!” sobbed Lavender. “H-he was only a baby!” Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender’s shoulders. “But then, why would you dread him dying?” said Hermione. Parvati glared at her. “Well, look at it logically,” said Hermione, turning to the rest of the group. “I mean, Binky didn’t even die today, did he? Lavender just got the news today —” Lavender wailed loudly “– and she can’t have been dreading it, because it’s come as a real shock —” “Don’t mind Hermione, Lavender,” said Ron loudly, “she doesn’t think other people’s pets matter very much.”

Here we see Hermione’s problem in all its glory: she’s more interested in being right than in being kind.

While the narrative appears to look down on Lavender at first -

“I should have known!” said Lavender tragically. “You know what day it is?”

“Tragically” brings to mind the idea that Lavender is being theatric. Dramatic. That she’s overplaying it. At least, it is the impression I get from the use of that praticular adverb.

But subtle judgement aside, the narrative then brings up Lavender’s very real tears, showing that, dramatization aside, she is hurting:

looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes

“N-no!” sobbed Lavender. “H-he was only a baby!”

Lavender wailed loudly

Through this, Hermione just ploughs on with her logical analysis, completely ignoring poor Lavender’s reactions and feelings, until Ron thankfully shuts her down with a well-earned rebuttal.

Hermione wanted to be right. Hermione wanted to prove to everyone that Divination was rubbish because Hermione hated the subject. And while her logical arguments are all true and have credible basis, the fact remains that she’s being awful.

Lavender looked for sympathy, for warmth, for comfort. And for the most part, she had it.

But Hermione couldn’t resist the possibility of proving that Divination was fake. The moment Lavender mentionned Divination, it was all over: Hermione just couldn’t miss on the golden opportunity to “disprove” Trelawney’s prediction… using Lavender’s pain as her springboard.

Another example of Hermione enforcing her beliefs on others regardless of their feelings or opinions is when she goes full Jehovah Witness on the poor house-elves in Goblet of Fire. Who would have thought that house-elves didn’t like to be told they were brainwashed fools who couldn’t even notice they were enslaved by wizards?

Then we have, of course, Half-Blood Prince. Oh, Half-Blood Prince.

“I won’t say ‘I told you so,’” said Hermione, an hour later in the common room. “Leave it, Hermione,” said Ron angrily. Harry had never made it to dinner; he had no appetite at all. He had just finished telling Ron, Hermione, and Ginny what had happened, not that there seemed to have been much need. […] “I told you there was something wrong with that Prince person,” Hermione said, evidently unable to stop herself. “And I was right, wasn’t I.” “No, I don’t think you were,” said Harry stubbornly.

There’s a whole fantastic analysis of this scene right here so I won’t rehash it: all you need to know is that Hermione is more interested in being told she’s right than in how Harry, her SUPPOSED BEST FRIEND, is feeling.

I mean, seriously, the “teaspoon” himself has picked up on it:

“Leave it, Hermione,” said Ron angrily.

Now let’s remember how Harry was feeling…

“SECTUMSEMPRA!” bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly. Blood spurted from Malfoy’s face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand. “No—” gasped Harry. Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged toward Malfoy, whose face was now shining scarlet, his white hands scrabbling at his blood-soaked chest. “No—I didn’t—” Harry did not know what he was saying; he fell to his knees beside Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably in a pool of his own blood. Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream: “MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!” The door banged open behind Harry and he looked up, terrified: Snape had burst into the room, his face livid. Pushing Harry roughly aside, he knelt over Malfoy, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Harry’s curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape wiped the residue from Malfoy’s face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting. Harry was still watching, horrified by what he had done, barely aware that he too was soaked in blood and water. Moaning Myrtle was still sobbing and wailing overhead. When Snape had performed his countercurse for the third time, he half-lifted Malfoy into a standing position.

Yeah, I reckon Harry is feeling terrible enough.

There’s no need to rub salt in the wound. Harry is well-aware that he screwed up big time, and his friends know it. They won’t chew Harry out, because they know he’s already kicking himself for his use of Sectumsempra.

Well, Ron and Ginny won’t, but Hermione, oh well, she’s got an opportunity to become the best at Potions again, so she is going to make the most of it.

“I don’t believe this,” said Hermione. “You’re actually defending —” “I’m not defending what I did!” said Harry quickly. “I wish I hadn’t done it, and not just because I’ve got about a dozen detentions. You know I wouldn’t’ve used a spell like that, not even on Malfoy, but you can’t blame the Prince, he hadn’t written ‘try this out, it’s really good’ — he was just making notes for himself, wasn’t he, not for anyone else...” “Are you telling me,” said Hermione, “that you’re going to go back — ?” “And get the book? Yeah, I am,” said Harry forcefully. “Listen, without the Prince I’d never have won the Felix Felicis. I’d never have known how to save Ron from poisoning, I’d never have —” “— got a reputation for Potions brilliance you don’t deserve,” said Hermione nastily.

This last line? This last line is very revealing of Hermione and her character.

She can't stand not being on top.

Sure, she’s nice and clever and she fights for justice. Until she is the one being subjected to it.

“If you ask me,” said Harry quietly, “McLaggen looks like he was Confunded this morning. And he was standing right in front of where you were sitting.” Hermione blushed. “Oh, all right then, I did it,” she whispered. "But you should have heard the way he was talking about Ron and Ginny! Anyway, he's got a nasty temper, you saw how he reacted when he didn't get in--you wouldn't have wanted someone like that on the team.” “No,” said Harry. “No, I suppose that's true. But wasn't that dishonest, Hermione? I mean, you're a prefect, aren't you?” “Oh, be quiet,” she snapped, as he smirked.

Notice how Hermione reacts. Harry is smirking, obviously amused by Hermione breaking the rules for her own gains - he may be thinking something along the lines of “ha, I’m a bad influence on her”. But Hermione? She snaps at him. She’s not amused at all. This is not a moment of camaraderie or complicity: she’s offended. She’s offended, because she knows he has a point. Hermione is interested in justice and fairness and equality, as long as she gets to be above it all.

She looked scandalized. Bending low so that only Harry could hear her, she hissed, “You should be expelled for that. I'd never have believed it of you, Harry!” “Look who's talking,” he whispered back. “Confunded anyone lately?” She stormed up the table away from them. Harry watched her go without regret. Hermione had never really understood what a serious business Quidditch was.

Gasp! A valid point! How dare you!

Sure, Hermione likes her friends. Hermione cares for her friends. Hermione wants the best for her friends.

But ultimately, she likes herself more. She has more consideration for herself than for her friends. And she wants the best for her friends, but only if she gets to be better than them.

It’s quite natural for a teenager, and especially for someone as driven by success as Hermione is, to have such an attitude. She thinks her academical success is the most important thing about her, and she can’t stand to lose it, because it means that she’s not important anymore. Hermione wants to be important, wants to be relied on, wants to be known as “the clever one”, because she desperately needs this sort of validation. If she has to ostracize her peers for it, fine; at least she still is praised for being the best.

Alright. Now, I wasn’t completely done with Half-Blood Prince.

“I told you there was something wrong with that Prince person,” Hermione said, evidently unable to stop herself. “And I was right, wasn’t I.” “No, I don’t think you were,” said Harry stubbornly.

… fast-forward to the day right before Dumbledore’s burial.

[Hermione mentions Snape to Harry]

She looked nervous even saying the name again. “What about him?” asked Harry heavily, slumping back in his chair. “Well, it’s just that I was sort of right about the Half-Blood Prince business,” she said tentatively.

DEAR LORD WHY IS THIS GIRL PRAISED FOR BEING A BOOKWORM WHEN SHE CAN’T EVEN READ A MOOD I get why I call Hermione a bitch now; indeed, she’s like a dog with a bone, she never lets go.

“D’you have to rub it in, Hermione? How d’you think I feel about that now?” “No—no—Harry, I didn’t mean that!” she said hastily, looking around to check that they were not being overheard.

Well you didn’t mean that but you certainly managed to make him feel terrible so congrats. Why do they call you the brightest witch of your age again?

“It’s just that I was right about Eileen Prince once owning the book. You see… she was Snape’s mother!”

Yes, yes, we get it, you were right, you were right, you were right, here’s your biscuit. Now you mind going away before you cause Harry to spiral in depression even more?

“I thought she wasn’t much of a looker,” said Ron.

Good old Ron, trying to make people laugh even in the direst situations. We don’t deserve him.

Hermione ignored him.

Especially you.

“I was going through the rest of the old Prophets and there was a tiny announcement about Eileen Prince marrying a man called Tobias Snape, and then later an announcement saying that she’d given birth to a—” “—murderer,” spat Harry. “Well… yes,” said Hermione. “So… I was sort of right. Snape must have been proud of being “half a Prince”, you see? Tobias Snape was a Muggle from what it said in the Prophet—” “Yeah, that fits,” said Harry. “He’d play up the pure-blood side so he could get in with Lucius Malfoy and the rest of them… he’s just like Voldemort. Pure-blood mother, Muggle father… ashamed of his parentage, trying to make himself feared using the Dark Arts, gave himself an impressive new name—Lord Voldemort—the Half-Blood Prince—how could Dumbledore have missed—?” He broke off, looking out of the window. He could not stop himself dwelling upon Dumbledore’s inexcusable trust in Snape… but as Hermione had just inadvertently reminded him, he, Harry, had been taken in just the same… in spite of the increasing nastiness of those scribbled spells, he had refused to believe ill of the boy who had been so clever, who had helped him so much…

Okay let’s see.

In one conversation.

Hermione says “I was right” no less than three times.

Every time she does so, Harry’s mood takes another nosedive. (And some people want Harry and Hermione together?? Do you folks even read???)

And guess who is the one who has the cleverness to change the subject before Harry flings himself out aforementioned window?

[…] he had refused to believe ill of the boy who had been so clever, who had helped him so much… Helped him… it was an almost unendurable thought, now… “I still don’t get why he didn’t turn you in for using that book,” said Ron. “He must’ve known where you were getting it all from.”

THANK GOD FOR RON, THERE ACTUALLY IS SOMEONE HERE WHO HAS A BASIC UNDERSTANDING OF EMOTIONS AND FEELINGS

this is totally a demarcation line shut up

Saying that Hermione doesn’t understand human feelings would be false. Hermione does understand emotions, but she tends to overestimate how much she does.

Hermione tries to analyze other people’s feelings through projection of her own and simple logic. But feelings are one of those things that you can’t really use logic on. Trying to explain a person’s feelings with logic will often get you angry, defensive responses, but Hermione can’t resist; she has to be right, all the time, and she wants people to know she’s right.

All in all, Hermione would rather voice her opinion and be ostracized than maintain a diplomatic atmosphere.

[webrokethe4thwall]

(just got done reading the rules) can you write a one shot where raph gets sick with a stomach bug as a little turtle tot?

Caught a Bug

Raph woke up slowly but not in a good way. His stomach felt tight, too full and too empty at the same time. His mouth was dryer than Donnie’s sense of humor. It was hard for him to lift his head from his pillow, let alone the rest of him from bed. His body ached all over, and he felt hot and cold at the same time. Any movement at all made him feel dizzy and nauseated. All in all, the seven-year-old snapping turtle felt awful. He wanted to go back to sleep.

“Boys! Time for breakfast!” Splinter shout was loud enough to fully awaken Raph.

Not wanting to worry his family by skipping breakfast, Raph got up. When a chill ran up his shell, he pulled his thick red sweatshirt over his head then sluggishly made his way down to the kitchen. It was a miracle he didn’t tumble down the steps with how heavy his body felt! Taking a moment to regain his balance, the snapping turtle paused at the kitchen door to watch his younger run past him in a frenzy as their father set the table.

“Morning,” Raph mumbled, rubbing at his eyes and swaying on his feet.

“Good morning, Red,” Splinter greeted his eldest son. He glanced at the snapping turtle mutant and gave him a worried look. “Although, you do not look so good right now. Did you not sleep well last night?”

“I slept fine,” Raph said with a shrug. He actually wanted to go back to bed. However, he didn’t want to worry his family, even if he felt like absolute garbage with his stomach twisting in every direction.

Splinter hummed, giving Raph another once over and carefully sniffing the air around him. The rat mutant opened his mouth to say something, but Donnie started pounding on Leo for shoving him into the wall. It was enough to give anyone a headache with the way Leo was yelling “It was an accident!” the entire time. With Splinter’s attention drawn away by his brothers’ middle-child nonsense, Raph lifted himself up to the table next to Mikey. His stomach gurgled loudly and a wave of nausea hit that the snapping turtle found difficult to fight down.

Mikey gave Raph a concerned look and said, “Maybe you if to eat you’ll feel better.”

Mikey could be right, but with the way Raph’s stomach flip-flopped at the thought of food… The snapping turtle shrugged and glanced at what Splinter had made for breakfast. Scrambled eggs loaded with cheese and veggies, bacon piled high, bananas sliced up in a bowl, and a plate of toast sat upon the table. The sight and smells were overwhelming.

One a normal day, Raph would usually pile as much food onto his plate as he could get away with, but right now it was all too much. The way the cheese oozed around the eggs made his stomach churn. He could smell the grease that was starting to congeal on the bacon. The bananas were riper than his fear stink. The only thing Raph thought he could tolerate was the toast. It wasn’t fair! Pop’s scrambled eggs were the best!

Splinter successfully broke up Donnie and Leo and got them settled at the table. While they and Mikey eagerly plated their meal, Raph reluctantly grabbed a piece of toast. He stared at the lightly burnt slice of bread for longer than he truly needed to and carefully took a bite. It was a struggle to even swallow the toast with how dry his mouth was.

Splinter, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey stared at him in shock. Splinter rounded the table and felt his eldest son’s forehead and immediately pulled his hand back. Raph had a fever. Turtles were cold-blooded and not supposed to get fevers, but since his sons were mutated with human DNA, they didn’t follow that law of nature. His eldest son was sick.

“Raphael,” Splinter said softly, rubbing the snapping turtle’s cheek, “what is wrong?”

Raph wilted into Splinter’s hand. He didn’t want his dad to worry! But he couldn’t lie, not when Pops used his name like that.

“My belly just hurts a little is all…” he answered.

An acidic taste began to rise from his throat, and Raph knew what that meant. He snatched a cup of water from the table and took a gulp to keep the sensation at bay.

“You sure, Raph?” Donnie asked, pushing his glasses up to examine his older brother.

“Yeah,” Leo agreed. He leaned on top of Donnie to get closer. “You look greener than normal.”

Raph shook his head quickly and stuttered, “I’m o-o—urk!”

The snapping turtle slammed his hands over his nose and mouth. The smells were too much. He shouldn’t have shaken his head that fast. The acidic taste was getting worse. Raph couldn’t fight it any longer. He ran to the bathroom, vaguely aware of Splinter calling out to him.

Raph barely lifted the toilet seat up before his stomach finally gave the great lurch. Sharp, vile, and burning from the bottom of his throat to the tip of his nose, he retched as his stomach contents emptied into the bowl. Tears pricked at the poor child’s eyes from the pain and humiliation. The smell was more foul than any stink he’d given off in his life, and the I-just-puked-stink he was giving off now was awful. A hand rested on his shell as the vomiting eased to dry heaves. Raph looked up to see Splinter frowning in concern.

“Let’s brush your teeth and get you back to bed,” Splinter said, lifting his son to his feet.

Raph wiped at his mouth, grimacing at the sick that soaked into his sleeve. His mouth felt fresher after brushing his teeth, but his stomach still rebelled against his body and he was tired. Splinter carried the snapping turtle to his room, replaced his soiled sweatshirt with comfy pajamas, and tucked him into bed.

“I-I couldn’t hold it in anymore,” Raph said shakily. “Pops, why’m I sick?”

“It’s okay, Red,” Splinter placed a hand on the snapping turtle’s shoulder. “Sometimes we just get sick and need help getting better. And right now it looks like you have a stomach bug that needs to be taken care of.”

“I hate bugs!” Raph shuddered. Bugs were as bad as puppets!

“I know you do,” Splinter laughed. “I’ll find something that will help get rid of it. Just sit tight and rest.” He patted Raph’s head then left his son’s room. He saw the other three turtles loitering just outside the doorway. “Purple, Blue, Orange, I need you three to keep an eye on Red for a little while. He isn’t feeling well, and I’m going to get him something to help with his stomach. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Donnie, Leo, and Mikey watched Splinter throw on his “Randall” disguise and slip out of the Lair. The three gave each other a nod before splitting up. Donnie headed to the living room, Leo went to the laundry room, and Mikey dove into the bedrooms. It wasn’t often that they got sick with anything beyond a cold, but the turtles knew how to help make their big brother feel better.

Raph rolled over in his bed with a groan. His belly felt awful! Every little movement made him want to—“Blergh!”—made him hurl. Why did he feel like this? He was just fine yesterday! Now he was puking, aching, dizzy, and tired. He couldn’t tell if the sharp odor in the air was vomit or his sick-stink. The snapping turtle closed his eyes, curling up in a ball and wanting Splinter to come back already.

When something soft thumped against his head, Raph cracked an eye open. Mikey was tossing stuffed animals and pillows onto his bed. Donnie tied the bag in his trashcan, replaced it, and carried the sick away with a pair of kitchen tongs. Leo stumbled in with his arms laden with blankets and sheets. Raph slowly pulled himself to sit upright and stared at his brothers with concern.

“Guys, Pops said I’ve got a stomach bug,” the eldest turtle warned. “You’re gonna get sick too if you’re here!” The last thing he wanted was his little brothers to catch what he had.

“Dad told us to keep an eye on you,” Donnie shrugged, booting up his secondhand laptop as he sat at Raph’s side. “So we’re making a blanket fort to watch movies in.”

“We’re not gonna watch you be sick and be bored at the same time,” Leo said from where he stood on the edge of Raph’s bed, hanging blankets and sheets in a tent overhead. “So pick a good movie before Donnie plays a documentary or something else lame.”

Donnie glared up at his younger twin but did nothing beyond that. It was very telling how concerned he was for their big brother that he didn’t start arguing with Leo that his documentaries weren’t lame.

“But I don’t want you guys puking up your spleens,” Raph countered.

His belly really hurt from all the retching, and his brothers didn’t need to go through that. Speaking of, Raph pitched forward as his stomach once again revolted against him. He dry-heaved into the waste bin Donnie shoved into his hands.

“Do you really want us to go?” Mikey asked sadly. His eyes shined from his best puppy-dog pout.

“No…,” Raph mumbled. He took one look at his baby brother, saw all the effort his siblings were putting into helping him feel better, and replaced the trashcan clutched to his chest with a teddy bear. The snapping turtle felt awful and scared and didn’t want to be alone. He wanted his brothers to stay.

Mikey immediately brightened. He climbed up onto the bed to rearrange the pillows and stuffed animals around the fort. What good was a blanket fort if it wasn’t comfy? Leo dropped a blanket over each of his brothers’ shoulders, and all four drew closer together as Donnie started a Jupiter Jim movie. Raph lay on a pillow incline, pulling his blanket up to cover everything but his eyes. Donnie and Leo lay on either side of him, and Mikey draped himself over the snapping turtle’s spikey shell. Raph finally felt warm.

It wasn’t until an hour later, when Jupiter Jim and Red Fox were separated by alien robot vampires, that Raph felt his stomach flop once again. He shot out of the pillow fort and tumbled out of bed for the trashcan set just by the edge. Mikey fell back with a shout, but Donnie caught him without hesitation. The snapping turtle retched and dry-heaved. He just wanted to be better already! A sob escape from the snapping turtle as he tightened his grip on the trashcan. Leo slipped down from the bed and rubbed Raph’s trembling shoulders.

That was the scene Splinter walked into when he returned to the Lair—Raph sobbing with Leo at his side, Mikey and Donnie fighting tears of their own as they clung to each other, and all of them turning to him as though he had the answer to end this suffering. It was true that the rat mutant’s arms were laden with plastic bags filled with bottles of ginger ale, a special rehydration drink, and liquid Pepto-Bismol. However, he wasn’t sure if any of them would work for a mutated snapping turtle, but he had to try for the sake of his ailing child. Splinter placed the bags on the ground then knelt by Raph’s side.

“Purple, Blue, Orange, go wash your hands,” Splinter ordered gently. “I’ll take over from here.” After watching Donnie and Mikey slip off of the bed and trudge slowly after Leo out of the room, Splinter focused completely on Raph and hefted the snapping turtle into his arms. “Alright, Little Red, back into bed. I’ve got some medicine and drinks that will help your belly feel better.”

“What is it?” Raph whimpered, balking at the thought of drinking anything regardless of how thirsty he felt. He’d just puke it back up again!

“The pharmacist said to take one capful of this medicine every hour to help manage the puking,” Splinter explained, laying Raph back inside the pillow fort, “and to drink some ginger ale and this special juice to help keep you hydrated.” He poured some ginger ale into a cup on the bedside table, handing it and a small medicine cup full of pink liquid to his son. “Take small sips.”

Raph held the medicine cup to his mouth, squeezed his eyes shut, and gulped it down. He gaged on the taste—like those heart candies they had found in the dumpsters after Valentine’s Day—and immediately sipped the ginger ale. The fizzy drink was welcomed, soothing his throat and dry mouth.

Now all Raph felt now was tired. His eyes grew heavier by the second, and with Splinter rubbing his head and humming, the snapping turtle didn’t stand a chance for staying awake. He sank into the pillows and stuffed animals that had remained from the emergency exit he made, and a blanket was tucked around his shoulders. It wasn’t long before Raph was fully asleep.

After he was sure his son was asleep, Splinter closed up the fort as best he could and left to check on Donnie, Leo, and Mikey. They had been worried about their brother when he had sent them out earlier, and they deserved an update. He didn’t need to search for them for very long. They were sitting across the atrium in Leo’s doorway, huddled together with their eyes glued on Raph’s room.

“You three did a very good job watching over Red while I was gone,” Splinter praised his children. He smiled at each of them. “He is sleeping now, so I want you all to be very quiet for him.”

“That should be easy enough,” Donnie said. It was easy enough for him to tinker quietly in his budding lab, and surely his younger brothers had some games in the arcade that wouldn’t cause disruption to Raph’s sleep.

“Is Raphie gonna be okay, Dad?” Mikey asked.

Leo followed up by asking, “And is what he has contagious?”

“He should be better in a day or two with plenty of rest,” Splinter said. “However, I don’t know how contagious he is at the moment. Don’t touch your eyes or mouths after being around Red without washing your hands. Did you all wash them like I told you?” He sighed in relief when he received three nods. “Good.”

Hours later, Raph woke up feeling better than he had that morning. His stomach was still cramping, and his body still ached; but the snapping turtle didn’t feel exhausted after just waking up. His mouth felt dry, though. He saw a bottle of the special juice Splinter got for him on his nightstand. Picking up the bottle, Raph read “Pedialyte Cherry Punch” on the label. He didn’t really care for cherries but, remembering his father’s advice, took small sips anyway. He still felt like puking, but he managed to get down a few mouthfuls before putting the bottle back on the nightstand.

A moment later, his father and little brothers peeked into his room. Mikey carried a plate with a slice of perfectly tanned plain toast and an unpeeled banana and placed it beside the bottle on the nightstand. Splinter gave the snapping turtle a once over.

“How are you feeling, Red?” Splinter asked.

“Still kinda puke-y,” Raph said slowly, “but I feel a little better.”

“It may take a day or two until that feeling goes away, son,” Splinter said. “Have some more medicine and try to eat some food.”

As Raph grimaced at the taste of Pepto-Bismol and slowly ate the toast to get rid of its flavor, Donnie, Leo, and Mikey crowded in front of him. They looked up at him with varying degrees of worry.

“Is there anything we can do for you, big brother?” Donnie asked.

Raph picked at the hem of the blanket pooling around his legs and shyly mumbled, “…Stay for a while?”

Splinter chuckled as his sons climbed onto Raph’s bed and reorganized the blanket fort so it would be more accommodating to the four turtle mutants and their rat-dad. Raph truly felt content when his father joined them and placed him on his lap, blanket wrapped over his head and teddy bear clutched to his chest. Donnie picked up the laptop from where it was tucked between the nightstand and bed and started up the Jupiter Jim movie from the beginning.

Raph felt lucky to have a family that cared so much about him. For the next two days, he had been sick. His brothers and Splinter were always checking in on him, making sure he was staying hydrated and eating, rubbing his shell or head when he did puke, and keeping him company when he asked. The snapping turtle got stir-crazy at times from how smothering his little brothers could be (He had to argue with Mikey to get out of bed to use the toilet!), but he knew it was all out of love. Raph usually did the same thing and coddled Donnie, Leo, and Mikey excessively if they so much as stubbed a toe. He was just happy that his brothers never caught what he had.

However, a few weeks after Raph recovered from his stomach bug, something weird happened with their dad. Splinter caught a fever, cranked the AC down to its lowest setting, and shaved off all of his fur. It was the most terrifying sight any of the young boys had ever borne witness to. Then he started attacking, cuddling, singing way off key, writing crossover fanfiction, and just freaking out all of the young turtles. It only stopped when they all yelled at Splinter to act normal again. He almost immediately complied! This sickness was later dubbed the rat-flu, and it would plague the five mutants more than any other sickness they would ever contract.

[fazbear-security]

Secret Tunnels & Surprise Visits

Mike hadn’t had a week off in nearly two years, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

He’d slept as late as he could, but that had only taken him to 1pm, and most of his siblings had extra curricular activities that would keep them out until at least 6pm. His mother was working until at least then, when she picked up the kids, and Sasha’s curfew wasn’t until 11pm (and boy, did she wring it for every minute she could get). He’d tried cleaning up around the house, but that had only taken up part of his Thursday, and as much as his mother had appreciated his hard work, it hadn’t been enough to satisfy the itch in his idle hands.

The pizzeria was being renovated that weekend, and was closed from Thursday to the following Wednesday, so Mike had a good full six or seven days all to himself. Already out of things to do around the house after day one, he’d decided to tackle the one task he (and everyone else in the house) had been putting off for years.

Organizing the basement.

“You have a lot of stuff down here.” Puppet commented as he climbed up on top of an old gear locker shoved against the stairs. A pair of old workout gloves and a rolled up mat were still stuffed in it, along with a set of resistance bands. Mike made a point not to look at it. “Like, a LOT a lot.” The slender animatronic that had taken up residence under his bed poked at the curling edge of an old sticker on the side of the locker. “Don’t you guys throw anything out?”

“Does it look like it?” Mike asked rhetorically as he surveyed the mess. Where was the best place to start? Christmas ‘91? His old college stuff? That box of yearbooks that stretched all the way back to Tara’s freshman year of high school? “That’s what we’re down here to do today - pare down all this junk and get rid of the stuff we really don’t need.”

“That’s easier said than done…” Puppet eyed the mess from his perch up on the locker before jumping down, and curiously opening the nearest box. “You’ve got more stuff down here than the old location had in storage….oh!” The little animatronic leaned over the edge of the large box - almost falling in - before scrambling back out with a little box clutched in his striped fingers, and a wide smile on his mask.

“Hey! I remember these!!” He popped open the lid and ran a cloth fingertip over the enamel pins on the board inside while Mike picked another box in a stack across the room, and started to dig through it. “These are the commemorative pins from 1987! They had me give these to employees as a gift at a big party!” Puppet tilted his head curiously. “How’d they get down here?”

“The night shift isn’t the first time I’ve worked for Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, you know.” Mike made a face at the musty books inside the box he’d chosen, and closed it back up. His mother still might want to donate these to the library - best to just set these aside, for now. “I spent a few months making pizzas for the other location across town before I went to college. I was out sick when that party happened, but management gave me those pins the next day.”

“You mean...we could’ve met sooner?” Puppet looked down at the old pins - at the cutesy, cartoony faces of Freddy, Chica, Bonnie, Foxy, and the pizzeria’s logo - and some of his smile faded. Mike looked up from the box of old clothes he was sorting through at the heavy silence, and frowned.

“Don’t...don’t think too much about it, Puppet.” He advised, folding an old shirt that had stopped fitting a decade ago and setting it aside. “You wouldn’t have liked me when I was eighteen, anyway. I was kind of an as-...uh...kind of a jerk.” He quickly amended. Puppet frowned, and put the lid back on the box before jumping up and sliding it on top of the locker. He was absolutely keeping that.

“So?” The animatronic moved to Mike’s side, and stood as high as he could to try and  see into the clothing box. “I’ve dealt with sulky teenagers before.”

“I was a lot more than just ‘sulky’...” Mike winced. He’d been a jerk with a capital ‘J’ before he’d gone to college and gotten knocked off his pedestal. It was a miracle his parents had been able to put up with him for an entire year, honestly. “Be glad we met after I got my head on straight. It was for the best for both of us.” Puppet’s mask twisted into a frown, but Mike was determined for that to be the end of the topic, and moved the clothing box to get at the yearbooks beneath it.

“...huh?” Mike paused in the middle of opening the last box in the stack, and closed the flaps again to tilt it back, and get a better look at what had caught his attention. Puppet quickly perked up as the young man shifted the box across the floor, and off of a mysterious, rectangular shape still half-buried by all the clutter.

“Oh, cool! A secret door!” Puppet grabbed another stack of boxes and tried to push it off the shape, while Mike scratched his head in confusion.

“I...don’t remember this.” The human frowned, even as he helped Puppet to move the stack that weighed more than him. “I wonder if Mom or Dad knew about this?” He frowned as he cleared the last of the boxes off of what was now obviously some kind of old trapdoor. “Kind of seems like they tried to bury it.”

“Maybe it leads to a secret tunnel!” Puppet suggested eagerly. “Just like in that cartoon with the dog Pippa likes!” He started to bounce on his heels, and started to reach for the seam in the floor. “Let’s open it and see where it goes!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down, Puppet!” Mike snatched the little animatronic up under one arm, and stepped back before he could get his striped fingers into the crack. “We can’t just open it!” He argued. “We have no idea what might be down there - there could be rats, or spiders, or-”

THUNK.

“......” Both Mike and Puppet froze at the sound, and looked down at the trapdoor. “.....that’s a big rat.” Puppet whispered. Mike slowly - quietly - stepped back from the trapdoor, and the sound came again, only louder. He dropped Puppet back to his feet, and the little animatronic quickly hid behind the human, and dug his striped fingers into Mike’s red jacket as they both nervously watched the trapdoor.

THUNK. THUNK.

Something pounded on the trapdoor from below - something big - and a small puff of dust was kicked up from the space. Mike looked around frantically for something he could use as a weapon, and snatched up a baseball bat from another pile of junk. Luis hadn’t used it since his high school days. Surely, he wouldn’t mind?

THUNK THUNK THUNK.

The trapdoor began to rattle, and Mike swung the bat up over his shoulder as the rusty lock creaked and bent. Finally, the old metal snapped, and the trapdoor was thrown open by-....by Chica?

Mike’s brain ground to a halt as the animatronic chicken mascot from his workplace popped up through his floor, looking around with a curious hum at the cluttered basement before she laid optics on him, and broke out into a wide, toothy smile.

“Hi, Mr. Schmidt!! How’d you get here?”

“.......” The baseball bat fell out of Mike’s limp hands, and clattered to the floor. Puppet flinched at the loud sound, but Chica didn’t seem to register the human’s obvious shock, and came up the rest of the stairs and into the basement.

“Guys!” She shouted back down the stairs. “Mike’s here!” Behind her, Bonnie’s ears appeared before the rest of him, and Foxy’s hook scratched at the edge of the trapdoor hole as he hauled himself up out of the tunnel that yawned beneath the basement floor. Mike sucked in a breath through his teeth as the pirate fox - and other figures that, in no way, should have ever been in his house - rose up from beneath the floor, and stretched his limbs.

“Aaarrr, ‘tis about time!” Foxy grumbled, leaning back as if to stretch out a kink in his spine. “We’ve been walkin’ fer hours! I thought we’d be ‘alfway t’ Tortuga by now!”

“We were only down there for twenty minutes, at best.” Bonnie argued as he climbed out. “Your internal clock must be broken!”

“Jus’ like th’ rest o’ me, ey?” Foxy turned an irritable glare upon the rabbit, but his expression immediately softened when he noticed the audience Bonnie had not. “Oh! Mike! How ye’ be, lad? Ain’t seen ye’ since Wednesday eve’!” Puppet looked up at the human he hid behind with wide eyes, and Mike found the presence of mind to lower his hands from their raised position.

“....you’re in my house.” He said eloquently. Bonnie and Foxy both tipped their ears forward, and looked around the basement.

“This be your house?” Foxy flipped up his eyepatch for a better look. “It be….uh….cozy?” Bonnie shook his head and smacked the fox on the arm.

“This isn’t the whole place, buckethead.” He scoffed. “There’s an upstairs, see?” He pointed to the basement stairs, and Mike looked over just in time to see Chica’s tailfeathers disappearing at the top. His heart skipped a beat or two.“This is just a basement!” The rabbit hopped over a box on the floor, and headed up the stairs himself. “Chica, wait for me!”

“I knew that!” Foxy huffed back with a lash of his tail. The basement started to feel a little small, and Mike pulled another breath in through his teeth. Oh, god. He’d had nightmares just like this, back when he’d first started on the night shift...except he wasn’t sleeping now. He was awake, and this was real-

“I, ah, don’t suppose I could get a hand?” Mike froze, and slowly looked back down at the trapdoor to see Freddy himself seemingly wedged in the stairway opening. Behind him, he could also see the glow from Sam’s LED hat band, somewhere back within the tunnel. “I’m not as slim as the rest of you, you know!” The bear admitted.

“Aye, let’s get’che out o’ there.” Foxy reached out with his good hand to grab Freddy’s and started to pull, with Sam - presumably - pushing from behind. After a few more seconds of staring, Puppet edged out from behind Mike to help. Mike, however, remained frozen in place, and a few shades paler than he probably should have been as he tried to comprehend how one of his darkest nightmares was becoming reality right before his eyes-

“Oh, wow!” Chica’s voice echoed from somewhere upstairs - somewhere on the second floor. “It looks like Parts & Services up here, only better lit! Bonnie, you have to come see this!”

“That’s my-! Oh no.” Mike’s eyes popped wide, and he finally broke out of his frozen stupor to bolt for the stairs, leaving Puppet, Foxy, and Sam alone to try and pry the pizzeria star out through the too-small trapdoor in the floor. “That’s my room! Don’t touch anything!”

He passed Bonnie in the living room, seemingly enamoured by the many framed photos hung up behind the couch, and nearly tripped running up the stairs before he caught himself on the banister. It wasn’t until he’d made it up to the landing and thrown open his bedroom door that Mike realized that he...had no real plan for confronting the animatronic inside. He froze again in the doorway, panting, and struggling for words as Chica ‘ooh’ed and ‘ahh’ed over the variety of drawings and unfinished projects strewn about his desk.

“Whoa!!!” Chica picked up a pipe-and-wire hand model that he’d given up on three months ago, and cradled it in her hands with the reverence of a child holding a coveted toy for the first time. “This is just like our endoskeletons! Mr. Schmidt, I didn’t know you could build things!”

“I-. Uh. Um.” The unexpected praise made it even harder for Mike to find his words, and he stumbled for an embarrassingly long time before he heard the creaking of the stairs, and felt a towering presence at his back.

“Oh, neat!” Bonnie pushed his way into the room, causing Mike to stumble forward, as well, and gleefully batted at the punching bag still hanging from the ceiling next to his bed. “Heheh, what’s this thing? Does it make noise?”

“No, it-. It doesn’t make noise.” Mike reached out a hand to stop the bag from swinging, and hoped the feeling of the synthetic leather against his hand would help snap him back to reality. It didn’t do much. “It’s for hitting.”

“Oh.” Bonnie seemed to lose interest at this answer, and turned to face Chica, who had moved on to looking at the posters and pictures hanging on the wall. “Oh!” Bonnie zeroed in on one in particular, and Mike winced internally. “Who’s this kid? I haven’t seen them at the pizzeria before.”

“Yeah, you have. That’s, uh.” Mike found himself wishing he’d never framed that dumb childhood photo. “That’s me.”

“That’s you?!” Bonnie and Chica both crowded around the frame, now, and Mike prayed to any deity listening that his floor would hold under them. “Aww! You used to be so cute!”

“Bonnie!” Chica gasped, and tweaked one of the rabbit’s ears. “That’s so rude! He’s still cute!”

“......” Mike pressed both hands over his face, and leaned back until he was sitting on his bed as the two animatronics began to squabble.

Maybe, if he just sat here for long enough, his brain would get tired of this nightmare, and he’d wake up?

[outcast-thingz]

That One Song

(I may change the title later)Hello my lovelies, I'm back with another song fic. I had a daydream while listening to this song and this is what happened😂😂

Pairing: atsumu x reader? Not really sure how to label this one

Summary: Girls night out! At least that was the plan. Just because your friends couldn't come didn't mean you couldn't go. A night of dancing and you catch someone's eyes. Next thing you know you meet his crew for the night. Who would have known dancing would get you into a little (harmless) trouble

Warnings: lyrics are a bit NSFW, it's a night club so the dancing isn't exactly clean either😂😂

       The dance floor called to you like a siren. Unfortunately, none of your gal-friends could come out tonight but that wasn't going to stop you from having a fun night. To ease their mind you texted them where you were whenever you changed locations. The current club you were in seems to have good music. You'd been on the dance floor for the past four songs without a break. The next song starts and nothing changes, you stay on the dance floor.

        Dum-pa-dum Dum-pa-dum The music wraps its sneaky strings around your limbs and body controlling you like a puppet. Dum-pa-dum dum-pa-dum left to right, left to right, your hips move to the beat. You allow yourself to be the music's little puppet as you get lost in the melody. Not much of the song passes when a feeling begins to tug at you. Your gaze follows the feeling. Amongst the crowd of people, a pair of honey-brown eyes stood out. The intensity held your eyes captive yet after a single blink they were gone; they had disappeared into the crowd. Soon enough you found yourself looking around to find the eye's owner. You accidentally back into somebody and quickly spin around to apologize.

       "He- eEeEEeeEy~ you're pretty cute." The man you bumped into seemed crossed at first but quickly softened when setting his eyes on you. The light shined against his yellowish blonde hair. His piercings were kind of intimidating.

"Hey blondy, get those hips moving we didn't come here to stand around. Oh. Why hello there~" a man with brown hair whines until he sees you. 

"I uh… I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." You finally blurted. The two narrowed their eyes and smirks crept on their faces.

"You know, you could make it up to us" the blonde started,

"By dancing with all of us for a few songs." The brown hair man finished. 

"All of us?" You lifted a brow daringly. The brown one looks back over his shoulder to speak,

"Hey! Living sun, Kitty, what do you think?"

Bouncing over was an energetic, spikey, white and black-haired man. His golden eyes filled with the natural high of exercise.

"Hey, hey, hey. Sounds like fun to me Oikawa, I'm down for it," boisterous man cheered. "Kuroo, what do you think?" Yet another man appeared. This one had black hair and a mischievous vibe about him. Really they all have a mischievous vibe about them but he was more like a scheming kind of mischief. The new man quickly bopped all of them on their heads,

"You idiots, you going to scare her away and Astumu will be pissed at us. Let's not forget who's paying for our drinks tonight." He grins at you whilst pushing the other guys out of the way. He stretches his hand out to you,

"My name is Kuroo, please forgive my crew, Terushima, Oikawa, and Bokuto. You are extraordinarily cute but to us, you're  ~off limits~" he emphasizes while eyeing his friends who either roll their eyes or scoff. "We would be delighted if you would join us for at least this song." he kept his hand out until you gently shook it.

"Y-Y/n…" is all you could manage to say. 

       All of the confidence you had started your night with disappeared. Here you were in just about every girl's dream, surrounded by tall, attractive, and athletic-looking men. Yet you found yourself a stuttering mess. You took a step back as the song reaches a quiet part. A hand finds it's way to your shoulder gently holding it. You lift your head and meet those captivatingly intense eyes from before. It was impossible to look away.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, princess. The names Astumu. We've been watching from afar for some time, you really have some moves. I'd like to see how you do with a partner, can you do that for us?" He spoke with a friendly tone but his eyes made it seem like he was commanding you. Who knew dancing was going to be the thing to get you in trouble. After catching your breath you are able you calm yourself enough to respond.

"Y/n, a pleasure to meet you Astumu. Let's hope your feet can keep up with mine~!" The tease that slipped from your mouth surprised everyone, including you. Even so, that was enough permission for them. 

       The song kicks back into high gear and the first man to take you hand was Terushima. He pulls you close to him and lifts one of your legs to his hips.

"Vamos, fiesta; I want you, señorita," He sings the lyrics as he leans back still keeping you close so you lean with him. Oikawa is next. Terushima lets you slip from his grip as Oikawa takes one of your hands and twirls you around. He dips you whilst continuing the lyrics,

"I'm gonna kiss all your body; Sharp breath, gripping the bed sheet."

Kuroo slips his hand underneath your back and lightly pushes you up till you're standing straight. He pulls you towards him keeping your back facing him. He wraps his arms around you. Then he crosses them so his right hand is holding your left and vise versa. The lyrics continue

"Baby girl, yeah, I'mma put it in; I can make your bed shake." Slips away and Bokuto fills his spot seamlessly. He leans you to the left while he leans to the right,

"I can be your sin." He now leans you to his right as he leans to the right,

"Your hands scratching against me." During both moves he kept his eyes locked on yours. Suddenly he twirls you off and it almost feels aimless until you're caught. A finger under your chin and a thumb resting just below your lip helps lift your head to once again meet Astumu's intense gaze. 

"One look," he quickly move his head beside one of your ears, "I know that you want me." Tingles run down your spine, the hair on the back of your neck raises, and your body tenses up as the last lyrics are whispered. 

       You are spun around again and pulled from Astumu by Terushima and Oikawa.

"Baby girl, won't you come my way?" Now you stood in the middle of a circle made up of the five men you are dancing with. 

"Tell me all the things; that you wanna say," the boys appear to be singing in unison and encouraging you to dance. You shrug and let the music once again slink his strings around you; you let it make you a puppet. The boys sway and watch as you entertain them. You honestly didn't mind since the whole point of coming out tonight was to dance; having an audience was just a bonus. 

"Baby girl can you say my name; show me all the ways; you can move that thing," as the lyrics end Astumu works his way up to you. He pulls you close wrapping one arm around your hips. The other hand takes hold of your closest hand. The two of you sway and rock to the slow part of the song.

"I don't wanna to take you nowhere; I don't wanna waste your time; Baby girl, would you come my way," he lifts your head again like earlier with the hand that held yours. "Baby girl would you come for me?" You can't help but giggle and thank the gods that the club lights were hiding the major blush on your face.

       You dance the rest of the song with the boys and hit the bar. That's where you learn Astumu called dib the moment the boys laid their eyes on you. After some more talking, flirting, and exchanging of numbers you all head home. You immediately tell your gal friends of tonight's adventure and remind them that they really should have gone. Feeling a bit jealous, the girls ask if you'd be willing to ask the boys to go out tomorrow night. You laugh and ask away. A unanimous response of yes came back. 

"I guess tomorrow I'm going your way aren't I? Astumu?" You hummed to yourself before landing on your bed and promptly passing out.

Tag List: @1tsnoya @oof-she-needs-therapy @red-riot-rat @squishytenya

[gaangadventures]

Waterbenders

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

You had spent most of the morning with your deerdog, simply waiting in the clearing for Hama like she had told you to. But with every hour that passed, you were beginning to wonder if she was even going to show. Would you be taken away like your father had been?

“That’s why you have to learn to control water wherever it exists.” The old innkeeper answered her, although you had barely managed to hear any of their conversation.

“I’ve even used my own sweat for waterbending.”

“That’s very resourceful, Katara. You’re thinking like a true master. But did you know you can pull water out of thin air?” She gave the girl a smile only for her features to turn serious, before waving her hand out and bringing water around her fingertips. “You’ve got to keep an open mind, Katara.” The water on her hand froze over as she continued. “There’s water in places you never think about.” As she advised, she flung the icicles towards you, only for you to immediately catch it and turn it back into water as you let it fall to the ground.

“Wait a second, you’re a waterbender too? But you’re from the Fire Nation.” Katara had pointed out, confusion blatant on her face as well as distrust.

“Really shocking, right? I’m the only one left in my family to bend water.” You couldn’t keep the bitter tone from your voice, crossing your arms as Ruo was merely wagging his tail as he sat next to you. “Stuff happens, I guess.” You answered, not wanting to delve into your family history too much.

“She’ll be joining us for training. Her father was a southern water bender as well.” At the mention of him, you tensed, having not said anything about him in front of anyone. Apart from when you thought you were alone in the clearing not far from your house. Just how much did she know about you now? You did not trust her in the least now.

But you wanted to learn more than you probably should’ve, and simply followed as she had led the way to a meadow of fire lilies. You had your deerdog sit out of the clearing, knowing that he would listen, but you hadn’t wanted him to end up eating any of them.

“Wow, these flowers are beautiful.” Katara had said, and you only shrugged, you’d seen the flowers and what they could do if certain animals ate them. You couldn’t exactly say they were your favorite after having to dig out the flower from Ruo’s mouth once.

“They’re called fire lilies. They only bloom a few weeks a year, but they’re one of my favorite things about living here. And like all plants and all living things, they’re filled with water.”

“I met a waterbender who lived in a swamp and could control the vines by bending the water inside.” 

“You can take it even further.” Hama quickly bended water out of the flowers with ease, and you could only blink in awe as she turned the water towards a rock, only to slice it into pieces with the water.. She was a creepy old lady, but she was a great waterbender.

“That was incredible. It’s a shame about the lilies, though.”

“They’re just flowers.” You commented, although you definitely agreed with the compliment towards the innkeeper.

“When you’re a waterbender in a strange land, you do what you must to survive. Tonight, I’ll teach you the ultimate technique of waterbending.” She spoke, laying her hand on the other girl’s shoulder before continuing. “It can only be done at the full moon when your bending is at its peak.”

“But isn’t that dangerous? I thought people have been disappearing around here during the full moon.” She was quick to ask, and your brows furrowed, almost wondering who would try to attack the three of you.

“Oh Katara. Three master waterbenders beneath a full moon? I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” With that, she began to walk away. While you certainly hadn’t considered yourself a novice waterbender, you wouldn’t call yourself a master either.

The three of you left the meadow of flowers for the forest, and you couldn’t help but wonder just exactly the technique would be. Your father had done the best he could when he caught you practicing a few months before he disappeared years ago.

“Can you feel the power the full moon brings? For generations, it has blessed waterbenders with its glow, allowing us to do incredible things. I’ve never felt more alive.” You took a glance at Katara, unsure of what she was planning on doing. “What I’m about to show you I discovered in that wretched, Fire Nation prison.” She started, giving her a concerned look, almost knowing that she was going to explain something that happened in her youth.

 “The guards were always careful to keep any water away from us. They piped in dry air, and had us suspended away from the ground. Before giving us any water, they would bind our hands and feet so we couldn’t bend. Any sign of trouble was met with cruel retribution. And yet, each month, I felt the full moon enriching me with its energy. There had to be something I could do to escape. Then I realized that where there is life, there is water. The rats that scurried across the floor of my cage were nothing more than skins filled with liquid.”

As she continued with her story, you felt a chill down your spine and had nearly cowered into yourself. She was explaining how she escaped, wasn’t she?

“And I passed years developing the skills that would lead to my escape. Bloodbending. Controlling the water in another body. Enforcing your owl will over theirs. Once I had mastered the rats, I was ready for the men. And during the next full moon, I walked free for the first time in decades. My cell unlocked by the very guards assigned to keep me in. One you perfect this technique, you can control anything. Or anyone.”

“But to reach inside someone and control them? I don’t know if I want that kind of power.”

“The choice is not yours. The power exists, and it’s your duty to use the gifts you’ve been given to win this war.” You only frowned when she reached out to Katara, but couldn’t help but feel pity for the former prisoner. “Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother.”

“I know.”

“Then you should understand what I’m talking about. We’re the last true waterbenders of the southern tribe. We have to fight these people whenever we can. Wherever they are, with any means necessary.”

“It’s you. You’re the one who’s making people disappear during the full moons.” You accused, everything finally linking together.

“They threw me in prison to rot along with my brothers and sisters. They deserve the same, you abomination!” As she insulted you, you flinched, having been the only child of your father. “She must carry on my work.”

“I won’t, I won’t use bloodbending and I won’t allow you to keep terrorizing this town.” Katara spoke, the wind seemingly getting stronger as it blew through her hair. But she yelped when her arm had twisted and she hadn’t controlled it, and you knew it was Hama.

“Let her go!” You yelled, bringing water from the ground and throwing it towards her with a fling of your hand as she tried to fight it.

“You should have learned the technique before you went against me. It’s impossible to fight your way out of my grip. I control every muscle, every vein in your body.” Hama began to use her as if she was a puppet, trying your best to defeat her to let her go only to be brushed to the side for a moment until she broke free herself.

“And as for you, little abomination. You should have never been born. I told your father that when he tried to ask me to train you!”

“What?” You asked, nearly breathless from the information you had just received. “You. . You are the reason my father never came back?”

“You’re not the only one who draws power from the moon.” Katara spoke, back on her feet and beginning to bend the water around her. “My bending is more powerful than yours, Hama. Your technique is useless on me.” With that, the water around her was sent flying towards the old lady. The pair of waterbenders had sent the blasts of water from one to another, the blast growing bigger each time until Katara had destroyed it, before bringing more back to Hama and she tumbled to the ground.

But you hardly registered any of it, standing numbly off to the side. Your father was always the reason your mother hadn’t hurt you until he disappeared. And you had just found out that it was because of you. Fists clenching at your side, you turned your attention to Hama once more.

“Give it up, Hama. You shouldn’t continue with this.”

“No. It was you who should not have continued to breath! Your father was a Water Tribe bender and your mother was from the Fire Nation!”

“Maybe so, Hama. But here I am.” You answered, before she turned her abilities onto you, an odd feeling overcoming you, and you had almost hit Katara when she dodged and bended water towards Hama.

“Sorry about that!” You called out, quickly noticing that two of her friends had tried to help Katara, only to be controlled as well. It was like you were all puppets to be controlled.

One of them let out a yelp when his hand was frozen to a tree, and Hama had made a comment shortly after.

“Don’t hurt your friends, Katara. And don’t let them hurt each other.” She threatened, before controlling the two boys towards each other, one of them having a sword drawn as if he was ready to hurt him. But they were stopped.

When they stopped, so had you, and you tumbled to the ground, quickly looking at Katara as she had controlled the old innkeeper herself as a girl younger than you had brought back all of the missing villagers and you were saddened to see Hama back in chains again, but it had to be done. Maybe she could have another chance once the war was over, and she actually got help.

“You’re going to be locked away forever.” One of the villagers said, before beginning to take her away.

“My work here is done. Congratulations, Katara. You’re a bloodbender.” She laughed, as said waterbender began to cry. You wanted to reach out but hesitated for a moment as she had started crying into your shoulder.

You tensed at first, having not expected it from the same person that probably wanted to kill you that morning, but you wrapped your arms around her. “It’ll be okay, Katara.”