#I hate that we canonically know he has little sisters but nothing more

[cicadaemon]

I'm drawing trying to figure out how I'd want to draw Arakita's sisters and I ended up drawing his mom and boy I am in love with the idea he looks a lot like his mom 😭

[lurkinginnernarrator]

Okay, I had a really cute idea, now okay, we know Shen Yuan was rich and all that pre-transmigration. And that he had two elder brothers and a younger sister. And that the older brothers managed the family business (can't remember if that's canon or fanon but it's true in this situation)

BUT. WHAT IF. the family business was an idol agency. Shen-dage is the CEO, Shen-erge is like the manager, he wrangles the backstage crews and label, and Shen-mei is of course, the star idol because of course.

Now I can't decide if Shen Yuan would be an idol alongside Shen-mei, or like a creative director.

We know Shen Yuan is a god-level poser, so he'd do GREAT at either (not to mention he's not stupid, or incapable, it's just in canon his denial skills are maxed out)

The media would love them.

There are dozens of compilations of 'Shen-mei and Shen Yuan being chaotic siblings for 17 minutes straight' and "top ten times Shen Yuan entered protective brother mode"

"Shen-mei cries ON STAGE and Shen Yuan comforts her!!!"

Let's not talk about the edits. Or the fanfiction. Or some of the signs that people bring to concerts. Or the fancalls.

Now imagine, they finish a global tour and all the Shens are bullied into taking time off by their staff. Shen Yuan, with nothing to do, decides to do something completely frivolous because 'who says I can't relax?? Take that!' and so he starts reading a novel.

The novel.

Twenty days later and Shen Yuan has sent more hate than all of his anti-fans combined. He has used words even his most inspired fanfiction writers would blush at.

And he dies and all that, yadda yaddah ya.

ANYWAY, imagine the fluff and the shenanigans. Both post and pre-transmigration

Airplane-bro starts humming a song and Shen Yuan's muscle memory possesses him.

Shang Qinghua: Cucumber-bro you must've been a diehard Shen-mei stan!!! That choreo was perfect

Or, OR that's how they both realize they're transmigrators.

(Airplane: 'i dont remember writing Shen-mei into pidw??? And why does Shen Qingqiu know the choreo??? Wu Yanzi what were you teaching him???)

Pre-transmigration Shen Yuan helping his little sister with recording harmonies and backup vocals.

And the outfits?. Need I say more?

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | October 1st-13th 2024

Hope all my fellow Canadians had a good long weekend! Had a week from hell last week so I didn't have time to put up the rec, and it's even a bit late for today, but I did it!

If you know anyone who's not tagged, please don't hesitate to tag them in the comments!

Complete

Siri, Call... by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Sickfic | 1,5K | General): Buck is sick and needs to call for help.

for thy true-love take by lecornergirl/ @clusterbuck (Outsider POV, Established buddie | 2K | Teen): OR: Chimney Han and the ethics of slipping your coworkers love potions

watch out, you might get what you're after by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Getting Together | 2K | Mature): Buck unintentionally woos Eddie. And then has a hell of a time processing the way he feels about that.

i hate accidents (except when we went from friends to this) by bellabrady (Getting Together | 2K | Not Rated): Or: How Buck and Eddie's first kiss leads to someone calling the police on them.

Put To Good Use by kittyeddie (PWP, BDSM | 3K | Explicit): Or, Buck and Eddie finally have a kid-free day at home, and take advantage of every second of it

At First Scent by Inell/ @inell (Urban Fantasy AU | 4K | Teen): When Buck visits Maddie, he meets Chris, a magic user needing his sister’s help learning how to use his powers. He also meets Eddie, Christopher’s dad, and feels a connection that he’s only ever dreamed of finding.

Bears, and Foxes, and a Three-Legged Bobcat by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Pre-Buddie, First Date | 4K | General): Buck and Eddie go on a non-date date to a wildlife park. Cuteness ensues.

Just Right by Inell/ @inell (Future fic, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): After getting injured on a call, Buck wakes up the next morning and tries to piece together what happened, accidentally changing his relationship with Eddie in the process.

to adam, from your ribs by justhockey (S8, Getting Together | 4K | General): And the thing is, Buck is so good at being alone; he’s been doing it almost his whole life. But when he’s reminded of the way love tastes, drizzled like honey on your tongue - the way it feels, like the warm glow of sunlight on your skin. That is when he truly aches. Not the breaking, because he’s done that a thousand times over. It’s the knowing that really does him in. The having, for just a little while, before it’s snatched away so quickly he can still feel the burn on his fingertips from trying to hold on.

Hall Pass by Inell/ @inell (Post-S7, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): After Buck and Eddie take Jee and Mara trick or treating, Chim and Maddie play a trick of their own to help Buck finally make a move on Eddie.

it's leading me on, every time we touch by lightyears (Post-S6, Getting Together | 5K | Explicit): Eddie doesn’t think anything of it when he reaches across the table to pile some pasta onto his plate, says, “Just my back. It’s been giving me a bit of trouble.” “You’re hurt, Eddie?” Bobby asks him, and Eddie’s sure that his intention isn’t to capture the rest of the team’s attention, but by way of being Captain, it happens anyway. “I promise, Cap. I’m good. But if it helps, I can go speak with a doctor, make sure nothing else is going on.” Chim chirps up: ��A physio probably makes more sense than a doctor.” “Or an occupational therapist,” Ravi suggests, and Eddie’s sure it’s to stave off a Chim-Hen showdown. “Even a massage therapist would probably help.” And then Maddie says, “Buck used to be a massage therapist” and everyone goes quiet, heads all swinging in Buck’s direction.

sweet sunbursts of flesh pink magic by Underhung_Aura/ @eddiebabygirldiaz (Canon Divergent, Witch Buck, Sex Pollen | 5K | Explicit): Buck’s magic has always been a bit volatile. Jittery. Fluctuating. A touch reckless. Messy and bright and loud. Maddie says that a person’s magic is supposed to match the person themselves, that the form it takes isn’t happenstance or random, that it’s a reflection of your purest self, an extension of your soul that you can manipulate. Safe to say, Buck’s never cared for that assessment. or, buck has magic and eddie gets doused with sex pollen

Happy Accident by Inell/ @inell (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Friends to Fiances | 6K | Teen): When Buck gets some good news, he accidentally kisses Eddie, which leads to a conversation that changes their relationship.

Kissing On The Corner, Wait For Just A Minute by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Secret Relationship | 6K | Teen): Buck and Eddie think they're so smooth. They're cool, calm, collected. Normal, in fact. Just two normal best friends. Nothing to see here. Nobody is convinced.

Does it bite at your edges? by noxeratum (Infidelity, Post-S7, Getting Together | 6K | Explicit): Eddie Diaz is so repressed that he thinks his jealousy is bigotry and feels bad about it.

Talk Dirty to Me by ameliahart (Post-S7, FWB | 6K | Explicit): In which Buck has recently ended things with Tommy, Eddie wants to explore his sexuality, and they decide to start sleeping together. As friends, of course.

Through the Looking Glass by jukoist/ @beforejuko (Post-S8E01: Buzzkill, Getting Together | 6K | General): Buck likes Tommy. He does! And he definitely isn't in love with Eddie. He's just... worried. Because Eddie keeps vanishing on Sundays, leaving Buck with the boyfriend he definitely likes as much as he should. Everything is fine. Or, a post 8x01 coda.

Basics, Understanding Basics by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): Chris gets sick, loses part of his memory, and reassures Eddie and Buck they can still kiss in front of him. That's really thoughtful of him, except for the fact that Eddie and Buck aren't dating.

🔥All The Things You Want From Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7, Getting Together | 7K | Teen): “Can I ask you something?” Eddie shrugs. “Sure.” Tommy looks nervous, unsure. Tommy never looks nervous, or unsure. “Do you think Evan would move in with me if I asked him?” (Or the one where Eddie feels Buck slipping through his fingers and can’t let him go, so he tells him not to move in with Tommy and blows everything apart.)

My Carpet’s Got Crop Circles by fruitsdoesnotknow/ @tayf-ghost (Eddie & Karen, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): Or, five times Karen tries to use wine nights to get Eddie and Buck together, and the one time she didn't need to.

🔥Late Fines by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Librarian!Buck | 12K | Teen): Buck is a children's librarian at the branch closest to Eddie's house. When he gets himself involved in the lives of a cute kid and his handsome single dad, he gets a glimpse of what he wants in life. It might just take a few years to get it.

Eddie Diaz VS The Buck's Boyfriend Agenda by songbvrd/ @songbvrd (Post-S7, BuckTommy Break-Up | 23K | Mature): Eddie starts gathering information about why no one trusts Tommy. As he grows to hate their relationship more, he learns more about himself and what he wants.

🔥 ice cream before dinner by cloudydaisies (Post-S7, Getting Together | 58K | Teen): or, gerrard messes with the team's schedules and eddie 'i just drove my son to flee the state' diaz is the only option to watch mara and jee-yun after school on tuesdays, which, shouldn't be a problem at all, right?

🔥 Any Other Way by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, S2 | 102K | Mature): In a switcheroo alternate universe, Buck spends young adulthood in the military, while Eddie, who has no idea Christopher exists, spends his twenties messing around, finally enjoying freedom away from his family’s expectations. When they both end up in Los Angeles, at the 118, some things are different, and others will be the same in any universe.

WIP

Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 5/? | 32K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 go and kill, go and die by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Zombie Apocalypse AU | 9/14 | 40K | Mature): The 118 are a group of survivors in a small California town in the wake of a zombie apocalypse. For months they've been isolated and safe. But the arrival of some new players, the search for some missing loved ones, will shake everything up and put their little team in jeopardy.

Podfic

[Podfic] déjà vu by NC Pods (N0Connections)/ @n0connections // fic by peaktotheocean/ @peaktotheocean (S7E07: Ghost of a Second Chance | 10-20min | General): It is completely possible that Buck put too much thought into buying his couch. But Eddie can’t think of anyone else in his life who would buy a couch just so his kid would be comfortable.

🔥 [Podfic] With a Little Help From my Friends by MeggieJolly/ @meggiejolly // fic  by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (Post-S3, Feelings Realization | 10-20min | Teen): “You know…several of us parents get together once, maybe twice a month or so. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like. I can add you to the email chain.” Not for the first time that day, Eddie’s surprised. It’s not that he’s opposed, more that the invitation is unexpected. He’s not particularly social—when he is it’s with the team or with Buck or with his family, all of them in each other’s houses, in each other’s lives both at work and away from it. Outside of them… It occurs to him that he’s never really known how to make friends. [Or: Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend]

🔥 as lucky as us [Podfic] by blackglass/ @blackestglass // fic by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Ravi POV, S7 | 20-30min | General): One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

🔥 [podfic] baby, can i hold you? by All_I_Ask/ @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove // fic by fleetinghearts / @shitouttabuck (pre-Buddie, angst/comfort | 30-45min | Teen): Eddie’s eyes are squeezed shut, and Buck feels something inside him crack when this helpless, devastated sob wracks his body, eyelashes clumped with tears he’s not letting fall. “What do you need?” Buck asks again. “What can I do?” Eddie makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t know. I don’t know why this won’t stop.” or, eddie panics. buck holds him.

🔥 Heart, I Implore You [Podfic] by ReformedTsunderePodfics (ReformedTsundere)/ @film-in-my-soul // fic by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampire Eddie, PWP | 45-60min | Explicit): When Buck finds out his best friend isn't exactly human, he volunteers to help keep Eddie from dying. It's definitely just to keep Eddie from dying. No other reason. None whatsoever.

Re-Read

Down to the Bones of Me by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi (Post-S7E10: All Fall Down | 5K | Teen): The morning after Christopher leaves Eddie gets in his truck and drives. Buck lets him go, and Eddie fights to come back for both of them.

[lolbital]

My hazbin hotel ship opinions!

• staticradio: my favorite, my obsession, my life. It is very obvious in the show that Vox is obsessed with Alastor. The most common opinion in the community is that it’s one-sided, but I like to think Alastor pulled away because he was afraid of his reciprocated feelings towards Vox.

•radiorose: This is my second favorite Alastor ship. They are super cute and they’re quite perfect for eachother. I just enjoy their friendship too much to actively ship them.

•radioapple: I only understand this ship because it seems like they have existing tension, but otherwise I don’t enjoy it. Alastor and Lucifer’s relationship was never expanded on beyond their immediate rivalry. Maybe if season 2 gives them more interactions or a backstory I will be able to get behind this ship a little more, but I really can’t see this as anything more than a boring rivals to lovers trope.

•staticmoth: It’s okay, but I don’t see them as much more than a sexual relationship. I don’t think Valentino is capable of genuine love.

•polyvees: I see Velvette as more of a younger sister to the other vees. To me the idea of her having two boomer older brothers is just funny. I don’t think this ship is necessarily bad it’s just not my thing.

•bombsnake: I think they’re cute. Unfortunately I don’t think Cherri really has returned feelings for Pentious. Based on their interactions she just seems interested in experimenting sexually with him because of his anatomy. I could be wrong though, so I’m very open to this ship!

•Charlastor: I see Alastor as a father figure or older brother to Charlie. Especially after the Hell’s greatest dad song, I just can’t ever see them in a romantic situation. I am not against the ship, but I personally don’t like it.

•Chaggie: I have nothing bad to say about them! Their relationship is healthy and I think they’re perfect for eachother. I particularly enjoy the fact that Vaggie was an ex-exterminator because it truly promotes Charlie’s idea of redemption. I am going to be extremely upset if Vaggie gets redeemed and gets seperated from her gf.

���radiodust: most people who ship this probably still have the pilot in mind. They don’t interact a whole lot in the show, and I see this as more of a crackship than anything.

•huskerdust: It looks like they’re going to be getting a slow burn relationship and I’m so happy about that. I like to think that Husk is refusing Angel’s advances because he knows he’s only doing it because of hypersexuality at first. I’m 99% sure that is what is canon too. I want to see their relationship grow.

•radiohusk: I am sorry but I can’t get behind this whatsoever. Husk absolutely hates Al, and Al owns him. There is no equality in this relationship, and it would get toxic very quickly.

•radiomaid: I love their dynamic but only as friends. I know Nifty is an adult, but she acts so childish and Alastor still owns her. I don’t like the power imbalance and maturity gap.

•alastor/lilith: if the theory that Lilith owns Alastor is true, then I am interested to see if we get a backstory about them, or what they might’ve been doing for 7 years. As of now I am neutral.

•guitarspear: these two menaces belong together. It seems like Lute really cares about Adam too which is an added bonus.

•Adamsapple: definitely a crackship. I don’t know what to say other than I find it amusing.

•valdust: I despise this ship. There is a very abusive power imbalance and it is proven that Anthony is nothing more than an object in Val’s eyes. There is no love here, just manipulation.

•royalhalo: cute, but even better if It’s poly with Vaggie. If emily becomes a fallen angel, Charlie could have two gfs and I stand behind that.

•lucilith: I hope they get back together. Lilith better have a good reason for leaving.

•Vaggie/Angeldust: most probably ship this because they were likely a longtime viv follower. I’m not against this ship necessarily, but I could never get behind it. Maybe I just adore chaggie and huskerdust too much.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 32

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 6k

A/N: I fear its safe to say I don't do well with change. I moved back to school and couldn't find my groove. Who knew I just needed a little ovulation and commute to work time to bang this one out. Chapter 33 will be arriving shortly.

Well Javier was on the floor. Without a complaint. The two of you didn’t stay too long at the fair considering each ride had a wait time of forty five minutes. In the car you decided to keep your hotel but still be open to staying over, when it was appropriate.  So now you’re on his bed, back in one of his shirts. Surrounded by him. Criss crossed while he’s sat up on the floor. 

“You could come up here.” You offer, removing your rings and placing it on his nightstand. Already claiming his space as your own, too natural for you. The offer has him quirking a brow. It was a test, you know he shouldn’t. Shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t.” He settles into the mattress, pulling the blankets to his shoulders. “We could talk like this.” Grunting from adjusting his newly relaxed body. You move forward on your stomach so that he could see you. Resting your head on your arms. You smile feeling like two kids at a sleepover, whispering and peering over the bed to see if the other fell asleep yet.

“Good you passed that one. Let's continue shall we?” 

The game of 21 questions was more like two hundred questions and it continued all the way into the house. 

Did you date?

I thought you asked me not to tell you about all of that.

I said I don't want to hear about Camila or Daniela or whoever.

You remember their names?

Yes, I couldn’t sleep and thought about a Camila under you. He flexes his jaw at that. 

I went on two dates, which were set up by my partner Steve Murphy and his wife. They ended with goodbyes after dinner. Never spoke to them again.

I went on some dates too. 

I don’t want to hear about that. You pinch him on the elbow and he shrugs. We’re different about that stuff, I hate to hear it. You nod and get the urge to apologize but fight it. 

Now in bed he clears his throat, “Alright. Tell me what your apartment looks like?”

You smile, “It’s a steal for the area. I actually have a bedroom for the price of a studio. My rooms a bit more eclectic than my one here. My bedding is white but my room walls are a burgundy color. There’s no closet so I have a clothing rack. None of my living room furniture is new… it’s all second hand from stoop sales or whatever. My birds shit without batting an eye so I opted not to be dumb about that. What did yours look like?”

His eyes are closed for a moment like he’s trying to imagine it. “Hmmm.. it was dim in there, always. The kitchen and living room were open, a few steps to lead you to the living room. I had a leather couch and a desk. My television was pretty nice. Nothing was really– mine. I tried not to make it feel lived in because I didn’t want to get attached to that place–that world.” There’s a face that you’ve never really seen from him until you’ve been here. It’s one nearly blank but you know the way his face moves, there's a small crease in his brows and he clenches his jaw. Like talking about Colombia pained him and he has to conceal it. Almost like a child admitting to their faults after a spanking. Quiet, embarrassed, unsure, and on the verge of breakdown. “You would have hated it there.”

Probably. You just nod the best you can while laying down. Waiting for his question. 

“Um…” He closes one eye, like it’ll help him think. He opts to go silent for a moment like he conjured a question but was waging his options. 

Should I? Is this a line I shouldn’t cross? Is the wound still open? “Have you heard from your father?” 

You frown for a second. Off put and taken off guard. Remembering the day, remember the rolling grass, low hanging branches and the cold demeanor from the one person she needed warmth from. Hearing urgent and violent words like I love you. Promising to take care of you. 

“No. I never went back there. He never called me even though I’m sure my grandmother told him I moved to Louisiana. I stopped needing him after I got to know him.” You rarely thought of him, just the concept of being without a parent. Then you became an educator and realized that anyone you call family is your own. Your students taught you that, so did Javier years earlier but you suppose maybe you weren’t ready to accept it yet. 

Javier hums to himself, staring at the ceiling. Contemplating if he should really share the way he had felt. Afraid it would break some rule in this delicate game you’ve got going. Wondering if you’ll furrow your brow and turn you back to sleep or internalize what’s climbing up, up, up his throat. 

“If this is… against your rules you don’t have to say anything or we could move on…”

“Okay.”

Again he can’t look at you. How is it that you reduce him to a shy young boy? 

“There’s nothing more that I want in life than to be the father of your kids.” There he goes leaping over the bounds to which he’s left in, but he can’t help it. It’s all he thinks about, all he thought about three years ago and it plagued him every time you spoke of your own father. He doesn’t see you but he can feel your eyes closed, silent, internalizing it all. After all, you'd never turn your back on him. “No one will ever know you like me. Love you, sure, but not as much as me. You’re too easy to love. But I know that you could show me what a mother looks like and I could show you what a father looks like. Our kids will never be in pain the way we were. Sorry if this makes you uncomfortable or-or confused. It’s all I thought about when I was away. And I’m so sorry for ever making you think I didn’t want you in that way.” Because he should have known that it was a deep point of insecurity for you, a deep well created by your parents. Urge to be loved, to create something and love it in a much fiercer and kinder way than your parents did you. Lorraine being able to have all that you wanted came like slice to the stomach. 

Sniffling, you rub your face into the crook of your arm. Hiding from Javier. He looks this time and he doesn’t try to hold your hand like you’re itching for. 

“Thank you… I—.” You wipe your face. Not willing to open the can of worms this could conjure if you just told him straight up that you’d be willing to start now. Fuck the trial, fuck trying to learn each other again, let’s start a family. Be irrational but be happy. You decide to keep it together. You thank him and he knows it’s genuine, you see it in his eyes. He understands your reluctance. “I found that I don’t have the need for many people in my life-“

“I need you.” He says before you. Like he did when he said he loved you. Throat bobbing, he pulls his sheets over him. “I’ll wait for you, until you need me again.”

“Can never get enough of each other huh.” Chucho chuckles while washing his hands in the sink. Boots clean and squeaking against the floor. It was a part of his routine, cleaned his boots every night even if he worked the next morning. 

Last night you fell asleep with your face buried into the crook of your arm. Hand dangling off the mattress, grazing Javier’s neck. Need to touch, woke up with a sore arm. Bleary eyed you notice there’s no-body by the bed. Silent but the sound of running water. 

That’s how you found Chucho, ready for the day at 8 am. Embarrassingly you pad into the kitchen in Javier’s shirt and boxers. 

You shrug, he hands you a cup of coffee. Nodding a thank you, “We have established clear boundaries. We are just spending quality time. We have a lot to make up for.” You say it with a bit of a half awake half still dreaming slur that has Javier’s father beaming. 

“Well if that’s what you’re calling it nowadays, so be it. I won’t be back until four pm.” He places his cup down and starts walking away. Your jaw drops and you nearly run after him. But you know he’s fucking with you, his shoulders bounce. 

“It’s not like that!” You call and he waves a hand at you over his shoulder and steps straight out of his own home. Screen door slamming with a brisk breeze. 

You hear a sneeze, “What’s not like that?” Your head snaps and eyes lock with Javier’s. Freshly showered, hair so wet it droops on his forehead. He looks younger this way. Grey shirt loose with jeans to match. Socked feet, he looks like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. At least seeing him like this makes you want to find a nest for yourself in his bed. You can’t help but smile at him. 

He’s skeptical of your cheery mood. Brows furrowing, nostrils flared but a hint of a smile. He’s cautious, like he knows you’re up to something. You aren’t, at all. You’re just giddy and it’s only been two days and you feel your boundaries loosening. Just wanting to find that place you yearn for. Just run to him now, kiss him, tell him to put a baby in you. Grab, pull, lick, love, whatever came with it. You decide to control yourself a bit. 

Your eyes drop to his hands, he’s holding three VHS tapes. Your brows furrow just the same, wondering what movie he wanted to see with you. It wasn’t a thing the two of you ever did. Your time spent was short and only for conversations and kisses. And pot, back before everything. You had to stop smoking after getting your teaching gig. 

You want to say something bratty like, assuming I’m staying for some home videos? But you can’t even do that, lord when did you become such a softie? “Big plans?” Is all you can manage to croak.

He shrugs, “Are you staying?” He says it without shame, you know it must take a lot for a man to nearly beg. You know he means please stay. 

You look at him once more and down at your boxer clad legs. Shrugging. “I suppose”

Eric Fredricks' family owned a Haitian restaurant off main street. It was a small take out spot that had been bustling with business since 1961. Eric was your classmate. A friend of everyone, known for his large digital camera he carried around school. The loud, goofy kid shoved his damn camera in everyone’s faces. Annoyed or not, he would always say, “When you fuckers are forty you’re really going to appreciate these recordings!” 

Well, each year he cut, edited and burned these tapes as his own NR rated yearbook videos. Selling them around school and you bought one each year. He was chill with the price for you just because you always perked up in front of his camera. Ready to gleam and answer whatever stupid questions he had like;

“Andrea, how does it feel to be the worst lacrosse player in Laredo history?”

“Or Andrea, what are your thoughts on today’s LHS Chilli special? “ 

You always answered with the same slapstick humor he had. You thought you lost these tapes years ago. Javier seemed to remind you that you left them at his house, might’ve been when Javier was in Houston.

 He was right, your mother’s VHS player stopped working in 1982. You remember popping these tapes in and watching them during your winter break from Miami. Chucho snoring on the lazy boy, saved him from watching the closest thing he had to a daughter do a keg stand with her skirt flipped up towards her chest. 

“I’ve never seen these.” Javier grunts when he straightens back up and walks to sit next to you on the brown couch. A couch with the tendency to swallow you whole. You remember Javier on his knees before you, pillow covering your spread legs while he unlaced your boots. 

“Well you left so…” You grab the control and snicker, pressing play.

“Hah. Hand me that.” he gestures to the pack of cigarettes on the side table. You shake your head no and settle into the seat. “Cmon.” 

“No. No smoking in the house.” You snap at the tv, “Watch.” 

It’s Eric’s face, he’s sitting in his bedroom. “Hello. I’m Eric Fredricks. I’m fifteen and my passion is digital media. The yearbook club is full of hacks and strokes, so I’m going to make my own. The date is September 21st 1979. Ok bye!” the film glitches and the camera makes its way down the hall. Faces of people who you haven’t seen in years. Hairstyles forgotten, thank god. Winks at the camera, sly comments from Eric behind it. He asks questions in his interview segment that would never make it to the school's video yearbook. 

“What does Eric do now?” Javier asks. It’s easy to forget that he missed so many crucial moments. He missed the infamous lunch box incident in 81', Laredos first soccer championship, the halloween rager that led to the assembly—all of that. You wonder if that’s normal, for the development of a person. To be plucked out of childhood and forced to be an adult while everyone else got to worry about if their drivers test aligned with their basketball practice schedule. Burdened with the responsibility of a person's livelihood is no place for a seventeen year old. 

You bring your knees to your chest, finding the most comfort when you're guided and held. “Last I heard he was doing media production for Saturday Night Live. Like in New York City.”

He feels it too, you see the way his brows quirk. How he almost frowns. “That’s crazy—how different things went for everyone else.” You knew at that moment that the tape would be mere background noise. 

“You�� you know you made a name for yourself too.” 

Hm. 

You weren’t sure if that’s what you wished to say. He doesn’t get upset with you for it. He chooses to let it slide and for that you’re grateful because you hadn’t had a clue about what to say to him. 

“Yeah.” He chuckles but doesn’t seem to be that amused. He pinches the bridge of his nose, leaning his head against the back of the couch. There’s not much to be said anymore. Lorraine changed the fabric of his being, so did the DEA. And maybe you too. His hand splayed on his knee, knuckles red from repeated trauma to the area. You opted to abandon the topic in general. Seeing his stomach tighten up under the thin fabric of his t-shirt when the choice was your hand on his. Small, soft, against his. 

The two of you relish in the harmless intimacy, you give each other this. Tiny touches could be enough. 

The two of you watch the bootlegged documentary in mostly silence. Rotating who strokes the other with their thumbs. You think about turning your cheek, kissing him. Pressing close and making out for a bit. A casual make out, breathy and gripping. You decide against it. This would be so easy if it was anyone else but him. 

It’s not because you feel like you can’t control yourself—it’s not like a make out with Javier Peña would have your panties at your ankles. You could control yourself more than that. What it is—is that you’ll take advantage of those little liberties. Sneaking kisses at any time and when you go back home, you’ll be lost without it. 

Maybe you’re doomed anyway, because if this doesn’t work out you don't know what you’ll do knowing you can’t just hold his hand. 

Your brother comes out on halloween with a fang induced lisp drunkenly reciting the alphabet backwards at a party while Eric cackles behind the camera. It makes you laugh so hard you cry, missing being young. Missing your brother. 

Lorraine pops up. High ponytail with red cheeks from gym class. Hands on her hips, it’s wrong for such an evil person to be so beautiful. You look at Javier and there’s a frown on his face. 

He wonders why she was so bad to him, what he did to deserve to be plagued by her. He regrets knowing her, it’s hard for him to watch her smile. 

Then you show up and Javier’s eyebrows raise. “I remember that day.” He mutters. There you are, looking the same just with that baby fat at the apple of your cheeks. Your hair was the closest to its natural brown, your pants were severely high waisted and your shirt a lacy shawl like thing. You’re at a locker taping a flier about lacrosse tryouts when the camera rushes you.

“Andrea Diaz! How does it feel to be Laredos worst lacrosse player?” Javier snorts next to you, squeezing your hand. That’s what he would do, come up to you and ask the dumbest, rudest questions. There, a fifteen year old Andrea rolls her eyes and rolls her thumb to secure the tape. 

Crossing her arms, “I’ll answer your dumb questions if you’re nicer about it.” You cringe at the sound of your own voice, sounding awfully juvenile. Javier’s entire demeanor goes soft. All it took was the sound of you—back then, for him to forget the panic in his gut when watching Lorraine in her prime. 

“Alright sure-sure- Andrea Diaz how does it feel to be the sexiest girl in all of Laredo?” Eric had quite the country accent, it made every line delivered feel like that of a typecasted movie star. 

Quirking a brow, “I wouldn’t know. I could ask your mother.” 

“All right that’s enough! You’re impossible to please ,woman!” Eric yells from behind the camera and it fades in little blocks to you getting set up for a keg stand. 

You’re in a skirt and a flowing yellow top. Stumbling a bit, Daniel holds your shoulder to keep you upright. You try not to think too hard about the images you’ve left in people’s minds while you were drunk. Javier is getting more and more tense each passing moment. His hold on your hand becomes just a hold and no longer a soothing stroke. 

You’re cringing at yourself, flipping your hair and chanting that you could do it while Daniel holds your waist. Hands trailing over your stomach, you almost forget that before Javier you had your fair share of hookups, him your most consistent. 

The date on the corner March 1st 1980. 

Drunkenly you lean forward and another one of your peers holds your other leg while another shoves a tap in your mouth. The entire party off screen and on, start chanting your name with whoops. That’s when your skirt flips and exposes the plain blue panties. 

You cover your eyes. 

“I don’t like this.” Is all that Javier can say, on the screen no one covers you until a random classmate of yours, Jenna? Or was it Jessa? Runs to your aid and calls all the men pigs before holding your skirt in its place. You’re dropped down and again you stumble backward into the arms of your pseudo boyfriend. 

And then you yak all over the floor.

 “Jesus christ I forgot about that.” You rub your eyes afraid to look over at Javier. 

“Did—anything-“

“No. Well I think we went to someone’s room and made out. Then I walked home.” 

His head nearly falls off his shoulders. “He let you walk home like that?” Javi grits, letting go of your hand. 

You shrug, “Dunno, high school shit.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?” 

Your brows furrow, he’s being ridiculous but you know he can’t help it. He wanted—wants, nothing more than to take care of those he loves. You watch the video back, seeing your young eyes and wish to take care of her too. You can’t even imagine him. He only lets you know the surface level of his concern for you. You know it’s more than wishing you had called him. 

You had before, panicked and blushing using the party home phone. 

You decide calling him ridiculous would be in bad faith. You just lean your head on his shoulder. Moving your hand from his and holding his bicep instead. He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. Face softening along with his tense shoulders. “I don’t know. I was sixteen and stupid. And drunk.” Your cheek feels too good there. 

He’s studying you. You wished you could read him in these moments. When he’s so in his head, he’s taking you in completely. “Can you? Now I mean.”

Your lips quirk and the apples or your cheeks redden. Pulling your brows because sometimes he’s too sweet it gives you a toothache. “I live in New York, Javi.” 

“I know.” He’s close enough to kiss. “But I want you to call me anyway. If you ever feel unsafe or unsure—i know how twisted a human can be—i’ve seen-“

There it is. He’s cut off by a kiss on his shoulder.

 “I will.” It’s a featherlight whisper and he does that thing again. That look, this time with a bit of restraint. The two of you focus on the screen again.

Twenty minutes into the forty-six minute video the two of you revert back to telling stories about the students on the screen and laughing at how high school, your high school experience really was.

“This is great, hottest couple in the school right in front of me.” Eric laughs, camera pointed at the ground then quickly shot up. Blurring than focusing on Javier at his locker. He looked so young, red cap on his head with a Righteous Brothers t-shirt. The image of him as a seventeen year old in your head had been fading for a few years, but now you’re watching him living, breathing and moving as himself. Smiling once he sees Eric approaching him. 

“What the fuck was I wearing?”

You laugh, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. “Don’t know but I was obsessed with you anyway.”

He makes one of those grunts where you can’t tell if he’s annoyed with himself or with you. You nudge his shoulder with your chin. “What?”

“Makes me feel like such an asshole.”

All you could do was sigh. You know he’d give it all to do it over again. You look at Lorraine and there seems to be love there. It never fails to make your blood boil. You know that loving Javier can make you feel sick, crazy or desperate. But you suppose her love was selfish. For a while you felt like your own love was selfish, not caring for the consequences. But you suppose it was just a natural progression. Miles away from scheming to keep him forever, by ways of manipulation. The look in his eye isn’t the same since you left him. 

A young Javier takes Lorraine’s jaw in his hand and kisses her cheek. She rolls her eyes. “He’s obsessed with me.” She smiles and he mumbles a yeah. Your cheeks heat in a rage that’s so juvenile, you want to turn off the entire thing. Maybe this was a shitty idea. Watching your most insecure and turbulent years in front of you. You were obsessed with him, crying furious tears. Avoiding contact. While he was content with her. It’s a nerve that will always be left exposed. 

He clears his throat. 

“Were you?” You bite. Removing your head from his shoulder, he sinks at the loss. Leaning forward to get a full image of your face. His brows are pulled together in confusion until they soften when he notices this is nothing but you showing him you are still so into him. 

He bites back a smirk and you want to smack it off of his face. “Was I what, querida?”

You swear you will-

“Obsessed with her.” Firm, no room for it to sound like a desperate question. This definitely breaks one of your rules. But fuck it, he’s flawed and so are you, 

He shuts an eye and shakes his head no. “I liked her. She was pretty. She was my girlfriend…”

You frown, that title belonged to you. 

There he is, an inch away from your face with such intensity. “But I would fuck her, and picture you. I imagined that you’d blush the whole time and would pretend like you couldn’t handle me just so I can fuck you harder. Would have to bury my head where she couldn’t hear because I’d come and say your name.” Your cheeks turn cherry red, just how he likes. Cunt pulsing, it betrays you. You’re so flustered and angry with him you want to lean forward and bite him. He doesn’t waiver, he leans much closer. You shudder, feeling crowded by his body. He has the strength to do what he’d like with you, you’re sure you’d put on a fight until you’re unable to lie anymore. You had been soaked the whole damn time. “What? Have I broken your rules?” He whispers, nose nudging your own lightly. You can’t help it, your mouth parts searching for his—

But he backs away and laughs at you. He laughs! Shaking his head like you’re some bastard child. Leaning back cooley and pressing play again. Lorraine’s voice ringing through the speakers. 

Absolutely not. 

You sit in silence. Staring at him while he’s glued to the image of him and his ex girlfriend. Your chin quivers, and you clench around nothing.

“G-give me the remote.” You blurt. Chest falling, bubbling with anger. He doesn’t look at you but smirks. He ignores you. Eyes welling with tears. “Javi.”

More silence. More her. You reach for his hand and he doesn’t look at you. He isn’t looking at you… so you pounce. 

Jumping into his lap, clawing at him while he laughs and hurriedly finds different ways to keep you away from the remote. You’re seeping through your underwear and onto his boxers, your cunt rolling against his crotch unintentionally.

 Your brows screw—“Just—Javi please turn it off.” He chuckles again and he’s all of this without focusing on the pain you’re in. Emotionally, sexually, whatever. You reach around him lifting your hips to get ahold of the controller but you lose again. Bouncing on his lap a bit. He grunts.

“Javi— Please- I’m not kidding.” 

The tv shuts off with a wiring tone and his eyes finally land on your own. All the playfulness leaves when he realizes. And you feel like a heat sick kitten, rubbing on yourself this way. His brow raises, eyes falling to your tear stained cheek and down your grinding hips. You drop your face into his shoulder. At first he doesn’t touch you, he just watches you. Nose nudging your cheek. Wondering why after everything you’d give it up just to come quick like this. 

“Hey… hey.” He whispers at the shell of your ear. “Fuck—Andrea—“

You can only whimper into the crook of his neck. Taking your feel for the girl in those tapes, for the girl who dreamt of him while he did the same. It drove you crazy, it made you violent and horny. “Baby…” His big hands span from your shoulder blades down to  the small of your back and then splayed on your ass. Spreading you and rolling you harder. He grunts again. “Andrea… I can’t—we said we wouldn’t—I'm sorry for teasing you—cmon.” His hands move from your behind, come to your front, at your waist and lightly push  you away from him. 

He’s impossibly hard now, his tan cheeks have a bit more color now. He’s sweating. Feeling embarrassed, you freeze. Eyes dropped to his lap, cunt begging you to move again. You feel the length of him under you, mocking you. You shouldn’t. You know. You know he’s sorry for how rushed and stupid Christmas eve was. You’re still ticked off by it, but he’s doing so good for you. 

“I’m sorry… we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Is all you can muster out. 

“You know I want to.” He rushes, leaning forward so he can hold your face, it just makes him shift against you again. Your brows furrow at the release. 

“Okay…” A drop of sweat builds at the nape of your neck, the both of you are so turned on you’ll fuck each other if you keep this up. “Can we…can I…” You swear if he brings up your rules again you’ll crawl in a hole and die of embarrassment. 

He juts his chin at you, egging you to complete your sentence. 

You think you’ll die before you say it. Your face brightens real red and you shimmy out of his hold. You crawl off his lap and mutter to yourself. “Sorry, it’s stupid. I should just go.” 

He catches your wrist and sits you back down next to him. “Tell me.”

“It’s stupid! And gross probably.”

“We aren’t children.” 

You’ve been so open sexually until now. You felt twenty two again, never having orgasmed with another person, afraid to tell him what you wanted. He gave you it all. 

“Can we— or can I touch myself?”

Javier’s eyes darken, “You want to touch yourself.” 

God it’s like he’s trying to humiliate you. 

“Yes.”

He clenches his jaw so tight. “Can I watch? Or do you want to go to my room alone?” 

Idiot. 

“Can we do it together? Now.” You can’t let the moment pass. 

Well, he can’t either. His nostrils flare and he places his hand on his belt. Unbuckling so fast you can’t help but watch. You watch him unbuckle and unzip while you shimmy out of his boxers. His eyes glued to your movements. You feel filthy exposing yourself like this. He lifts his hips and pulls his jeans down a bit, the heft of his cock making a print through his underwear. You remember leaning down and pressing your lips along his bulge once. You’d like to do it again. 

You circle your fingers along your clit over your panties. He palms himself. 

“Tell me what to do.” You whisper. 

“Oh.” He reaches into his boxers and pulls his length out. Your pussy clenches at the sight, a thatch of hair at the base and curved. You touched yourself to the thought of it. You pull your panties down and lift one leg up on the couch, spreading yourself open. “Give me your fingers.” 

You furrow your brow but remove them. Bringing your hand to him. His free hand grasps your wrists and he takes no time, he puts the same two fingers in his mouth. You gasp, while he sucks, stroking his dick at the same time. Your fingers are impossibly wet when he stops. Your wrist is still in his hold. “Don’t put any fingers in until I tell you. Just play with your clit for a little.” 

You nod, bringing your fingers back to it. Moving in tight circles. Javier’s fist is dry, working his way up and down his shaft— your lips gather with drool—you want to-

“Spit on it. If you want. Or I can.” He reads your mind. You take no time, moving to your knees, your knees knocked together giving you a tighter squeeze for your fingers. Feels even better. You lean into his lap, back arched like a kitten. 

Javier groans at the sight. You desperately want to put your mouth on him—my rules, my rules. Spit drips from your mouth and onto the red head of his pretty cock. His hand comes to the back of your head and you moan, wishing he’d push down and force himself into your mouth. But he just strokes the back of your head instead. You lean back into the arm of the couch, you’re no longer side by side. Your whole body is barred for him, you bring your free hand under your shirt. Grabbing your breast and rolling your fingers over your nipples. 

He uses your spit and moans audibly now. Grunting in his low baritone, you collect your slick and use it for slip. Your stomach tenses, “Put your finger in. Middle.” You nod and feel even more unsatisfied. “Fuck, I missed that pretty little face you make when something goes inside your cunt.”

“Javi…” You whine throwing your head back, fucking yourself with your small finger. 

“I know—fuck.” Pre-cum gathers all over the tips of his fingers. You’ll ask to lick his hand clean when you’re done. “I know your cunt wants my cock again—I’m sorry I can’t.”

“It’s not enough.” Your knees knock together in protest. 

“I know-I know. Add another baby. Ring.” You watch his stomach go taut so he slows down his strokes. Licking his lips at the sight of you adding another. “Mm. I miss you so much.” He shudders. 

“I’m right here.” 

“Please don’t leave me—fuck.” He whines, it’s so unlike him. You watch his tip surge through the tight hole he’s made for himself, he’s close but you’re closer. You can’t believe it’s him asking you this. “I want to follow your rules—show you I’m good—but please let me kiss you.” 

The ridges of your fingers aren’t enough, you use your other hand to circle your clit without permission. He’s so caught in his emotions that he doesn’t seem to care that you touched yourself without his command. 

He tells you what to do but truly he’s at your will. His eyes well with tears and his brows are pulled together. “Let me take care of you, I’ll do everything you say if you let me kiss you—“

“I can’t— I’m going to come!” Your back arches and it builds. You can’t see him now but you hear his pace, his fist slapping against his base. You writhe and shiver and it comes crashing down. You come hard, you mutter I’m sorry, over and over. And he groans at the sight, you can’t give him what he wants. 

You can try and give him something else. You catch your breath and open your eyes. Your own come dripping to the inside of your thighs. He watches in pain, “Baby—” You whisper, fuck that’s against the rules probably. He nods, submissive suddenly. “Come here, come on my cunt.” You want to be marked, he’s yours. 

“Andrea—“ still he’s fighting his need to follow your rules. 

You nod, “It’s okay, come here.” He lets his length go at once, it twitches at the sudden abandonment. You lean forward and grab his arms, and he finally climbs over you. Reluctant, “Please Javi. Let me have what I want.” Were you power tripping? Yeah. But it was always him in control. You open your legs and he clenches his jaw. “Do you want me to finish it?” 

He shakes his head no, you know he wants it. Still he tries to be good. You begin to touch yourself under him. He begins to jerk himself off inches away from your cunt. Your knuckles brush against each other and you're already climaxing again. He slaps faster, breathing heavily in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck—move your hand.” You do and he’s coming all over you. It shoots and covers the new growth of hair, it's warm against the bare part of you. Dripping and he instinctively slides his twitching, softening cock between your folds. The two of you gasp when just the tip of his cock prods your hole. Gasping at the way you pulse for him for that one second like muscle memory. “Sorry.” He mumbles, taking a hold of his still twitching and leaking length. He panics and tucks himself back into his boxers before he relaxes himself on you. 

He’s catching his breath, you think he’s crying against your shoulder. 

“It’s okay.” 

You hold the back of his head, hoping to soothe him. 

He had done this for you countless times. You find no issue doing it for him.

[kitspindles]

I’m in no way bashing on people who have already finished TSatS and say they hate it, are disappointed, etc., because I myself have not gone past chapter seven. My friend let me read some today, but I won’t have my own copy until Thursday, so maybe my opinions will change. I will say, however, that if you read 400+ pages in less than a day, maybe give yourself some time to process the entire plot first?

In any case, I can’t help but wonder how many people went into this book expecting one version of Nico and Will, only to be hit with something else entirely. And I mean like... expecting the fandom’s versions of these two, rather than what canon has previously shown us up until this book.

It’s my personal opinion that the PJO fandom’s worse enemy is their own mischaracterization of the characters at times. And I don’t mean like little head canons and stuff. Everyone has done those at some point. There’s usually no harm in those. I’m talking about people who created their own versions of Nico and Will and have been running with these visions for years through different fan fictions and what-not online.

For years we’ve known basically nothing about Will aside from the fact that he’s sarcastic, likes Star Wars, his mom is a country singer, he can glow in the dark, and he’s better at healing than fighting. (And he has questionable fashion choice at times). Like, that’s all we’ve had since his initial introduction in The Last Olympian over a decade ago. Everything else? Online and fan speculation. And again, there is nothing wrong with that! I just feel like a lot of people went into this book holding onto their own pre-conceived visions of what Will Solace was and ended up disappointed the authors made him... different? But not really different, because he didn’t have a lot of in-depth personality or backstory before this.

Me personally? Yeah, I’m not that far into the book yet but I’m loving how Will is portrayed so far. He’s still sarcastic, but he’s shown his fair share of level-headedness as well as frustrations just within the first couple chapters. He is in no way the overly-optimistic sunshine-y boy who only exists to help Nico that the fandom has portrayed him to be all these years. His character arc is already headed in a way deeper direction (more on that when I finish the book). The whole bit where Will had coffee spilled on him and spent the next couple paragraphs in the scene trying to be unbothered while actually giving off “This is fine” fire dog energies? I loved that.

As for Nico, can I just say I adore how he’s written in this book? Aside from his PoV in Blood of Olympus, this is the first time he’s had his own narration. And it’s actually about him and more in-depth than previous times. I’ve heard people say that he’s “out of character,” and while I can see a little of what they’re all saying, I just want to know... what version of Nico have you all been reading? Did I miss something?

Up until this book, what exactly did we know about Nico? That he’s displaced in time, his sister and mother are both dead (and he feels alone), he harbored repressed gay feelings from his upbringing as a Catholic guy in 1940s Italy, and he’s been through the ringer more than once (so, trauma, basically). Oh, and he’s a bit of a nerd (Mythomagic and knowing all kinds of ancient creatures). That’s... about it. Everything has been speculation and projection from fans.

In previous books he’s always been portrayed from first- or third-person point of view (usually from people who don’t know him well and just think he’s “creepy”), leading to the idea that he’s distant and low-empathy based on some interactions he’s had with demigods who weren’t thrilled to be around him, during a time of great pressure. But he’s not exactly uncaring. He’s been shown to care a lot, actually (Bianca, Hestia, Bob, everything he’s done for Percy, his friendship with Reyna, Hazel, etc.)

But what about when he was ten? He was an excitable, curious kid who liked to have fun. And what did we see briefly in Trials of Apollo (before Jason died, at least)? We saw some of that energy return, particularly in The Hidden Oracle.

So, yeah, I’m personally thrilled to see him making cringe-y jokes and have some self-deprecating humor. It’s very “#OnBrand” for a traumatized teenager who’s just trying to cope and live life without any godly wars forcing him this way and that. Can we really say it’s “out of character” if we’ve never seen more than one side of Nico? (The under pressure side, from other character’s PoVs, in books not about him where he’s basically been a side character?) I’m just glad to see him cracking jokes, laughing, and acting more like a normal kid.

Now, is this book different from Rick’s other ones? Uh, yeah. I won’t say it’s not. But it’s not bad. It’s supposed to be different. It has slightly different intentions than the other books (re: explicitly working through trauma and relationship bumps). Also, it’s co-written. Co-written books always read slightly off from the original author’s work, but dam if it isn’t hard to meld writing styles and copy another author’s particular voice. But I think Mark did a very good job at imitating Rick’s style (again, from what I’ve read so far).

Will I change my mind on all this the farther I get into the book? Maybe. There’s a lot to read and take in. All I’m saying is don’t let the negative reviews warp your opinion of the book if you haven’t read it yet and are on the fence if you should or not. Wait for the PDF to drop, or for a library copy, and read and see for yourself.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Ok no let me explain you a thing.

I can't take it. I literally can't take this moment without making a sound somewhere in the back of my throat. It's the cutest thing ever and it's this frame here that makes it.

Look, I know this is Wan. I know Wan isn't really canon and this is the preschool episode so it's even less so. But there's something in here that is an absolutely canon thing Akutagawa does.

The scene starts off with Akutagawa's typical reverence and excitement that Dazai is sitting near him. Nothing particularly notable there. But then Dazai gets excited by what's going on and Akutagawa gives him this look and I just can't take it man.

Because that's a genuinely fond look. He's happy for him. He's happy Dazai is enjoying himself.

And that's not just a Wan thing. He says along those lines to Kyouka in one of my all-time favourite BSD scenes in general.

It just. I just have a lot of feelings about that. This is a guy who, we know from Heartless Cur and the beginning of Beast, has very little in the way of emotion - but when he does feel, it's rather all-encompassing, even overwhelmingly strong. Things like rage and desperation. It's raw survival instinct.

But then he has. This too.

Here's the thing. In the preschool chapter, silly as it is, Dazai is still fixated on suicide. He has the noose, just doesn't speak about it openly. So, it's probably quite rare that Dazai shows genuine enjoyment the way he did here - and that's worth that small smile.

In the main universe, Akutagawa remembers how Kyouka hated herself to the point of asking to be killed, then sees how fierce she is about defending her new life and self, and decides that he's glad for her.

It really means something to me that one of the very few relational emotions he allows himself to feel is happiness and pride on others' behalf.

It roots itself less in compassion or happiness itself and more in a sense of respect... but remember that Akutagawa hardly gives his respect easily. He gives his respect only to those he considers strong, and in nearly every battle, he finds himself disappointed. What he wants is kind of contradictory - he wants a worthy opponent, so someone who poses a strong challenge to him to prove his own worth as one who will never be weak again... and yet, when they lose against him, he's often disappointed they did not succeed or fight harder, and looks down on them.

Atsushi's motive, or what he initially thinks his motive is, is disappointing to him at first - Akutagawa believes he is trying to prove himself as worthy of living through someone else's acceptance and berates him for it. But that's... exactly what he has been doing. Later on, he continues to question Atsushi for his motives, in yet another of one of my favourite scenes.

He asks him over and over - "why?" And is not satisfied until Atsushi reveals that he's also looking to get rid of the shadow of the orphanage director that follows him like a haunting - that trauma? All that pain thrown in his face? He is fighting to overcome it. He is fighting via proof and change because Atsushi wants to live, and to not have to feel ashamed of that. And that's what it took for Akutagawa to trust him and respect him enough to transfer Rashoumon to him.

I think, on some level, Akutagawa is invested in seeing whether Atsushi will succeed in this. And I think, in spite of everything between them, he will be glad for him if he does.

I just really love this aspect to his character, because while he searches for strength in violence and power and physical skill, it means on a deeper level, he actually sees joy and resistance in the face of despair as true strength that's worth acknowledging.

I want him so badly to accept that as true strength within himself in the main timeline.

I also love it because Beast confirms that Akutagawa would do anything for his sister and I am now free to imagine Gin telling her brother all the things she was learning and how she was slowly connecting to the Black Lizard and feeling overwhelming pride for her but not really expressing that but Gin knowing that's how he felt regardless, anyways that is all

Is this even coherent anymore? Oh well.

[theladyofrosewater]

So I was browsing the MCD wiki (which sidenote thank you @/lggy for maintaining the wiki you are a godsend) and I noticed that because of the sepia or whatever filter they used, Zianna and Aaron's wife Lilly look really similar so I thought "what if I made them sisters"

THINK ABOUT IT FOR A SECOND. If I make it so that Lilly and Aaron get married early that would effectively make Zianna the sister of the Lord of Falconclaw and a pretty valuable person to marry in terms of alliances so Zianna would make the decision to marry Garte and therefore O'Khasis would never move on Falconclaw and hey if Garte died early (most descendants of Esmund have a habit of dying young in my rewrite) that would effectively let Zianna rule O'Khasis as long as she had an heir that could wield Esmund's relic.

It also would make Aaron more involved in the plot because I will be honest, while I do not hate Aaron because I can separate him from Jason enough. Aaron feels like a character who would have been a one-off character or at least one who was a side character to the level of say Lucinda. I know the Divine Warriors and Irene are supposed to be the kinda main story but I will be honest with you the Ro'Meaves and their absolute chaos are way more interesting to me. Zane was the season one's villain, Garroth and Vylad were mysteries that we got to upwrap with both Ru'aun as a whole and some stuff about the Shadow Knights. In making Aaron Zianna's brother-in-law and the uncle of Garroth, Zane and Vylad to me, besides just making him more connected to the main plot, does two main things.

Aaron in current MCD canon is really only connected to two characters Aphmau and Zane. I'm changing his relationship to Aph to be more of a mentorship one because I think he sees the young daughter he and his wife wanted to have but never got too because of Zane. to me it makes the massacre at Falconclaw be that much more personal because instead of this random priest just killing your wife, child, and entire village for no real reason imagine this. You're a lord of a village and relatively recently two of your nephews have died and one of them quite gruesomely, you've got one nephew left and he requests a family visit and you accept because hey the kid has always been a bit weird but he just lost both of his brothers and he probably needs support right now so you extend an invitation for him to visit. He gets there and he somehow got to be the head of the major religion in your area and the kid's not even 19 yet and looks like he hasn't slept in days so you rush the tour and send him to your home, maybe your wife can get him to eat something, or your son might cheer him up for at least a little while. You think nothing of it and keep doing your job until you hear screaming and see so many dead. Your wife is dead, your son is dead everyone is dead and the only one alive is your nephew and when he looks at you he fucking smiles and says it "it was necessary but don't worry I'm sure you'll join them soon enough" before walking off leaving you to bury bodies for years. Making Aaron be related to the Ro'meaves in my opinion changes his story from just a fridging backstory to a classic tragedy because it becomes a betrayal bathed and forged from blood.

I think it would give him a better motivation to risk his life to get Garroth back and it would make him interact with the other characters because he wants to know what kind of man his non-evil nephew turned into. That causes him to be more and more social with everyone. Maybe he spars and trains with Katelyn, He teaches Dante and his kids how to fish because Aaron never got to teach Jacob how, but still wants to pass on that skill. Maybe he knows things about shadow knights that most people don't, and he promises to teach Laurance in case he might help him. Maybe he takes Travis hunting because Travis never got to go on hunting trips with a parent. And then he sacrifices himself. Katelyn ignores the painful feeling she gets when she looks at the spare chalk and wrappings she has for spars. The fishing poles in Dante's house get covered with dust and cobwebs, the strings rotting away and snapping. Laurance and maybe Vylad struggling with being shadow knights as the call gets stronger and wondering if Aaron would have known how to deal with it. Travis out of anger snaps his bow in half before realizing what he did and breaking down. I want Garroth to be horrified when he finally is home and realizes just who they lost to get him back. I want them to care about him and I want his sacrifice to be more than love triangle fodder

[andsoigotabutterfly]

-Save Me From Her - chapter 3

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Summary: The past comes back to haunt, and it doesn't like the present.

a/n: Hai everybody! Sorry that this took this long to come out, but life has been lifing, and I needed to get a hold of my mental health and stuff like that. Anyways, enjoy!

warnings: amature writing, wounds, stabbing, Canon-typical violance, multiple POV's, mixed POV's, mass homocide, blood, blood, and more blood (also; not proofread. I will, but not yet. When I did, I will remove this. I just wanted to push this out as quick as possible.

“Lolly!”

Her voice was venomous as it echoed through the small room, shivering, and agitated.

“Come ‘ere…”

The voice disintegrated, everything in it becoming shadowy dust, blown away by the wind. Her voice faded as well, as it was taken over by a sound that cut through the very fabric of nature. A scream, loud, horrid, and filled with emotion. Filled with anger, with hate and rancor.

“She was screaming, shouting, and begging for it to end.” The voice sounded from the depths of darkness. “Yet you did nothing!”

Her face emerged from the dredge, emotionless. Her eyes like glass, her mouth ripped open, deep bruises across her features. Dead. Then her voice sounded again, the former emotions snuff from the words she spoke, replaced with sadness. She sounded bitter, heartbroken. Disappointed.

“We could have been happy Y/N. We could have been…”

----------------------------

Tara was worried about you. Ever since you saw the note, you haven’t been the same. You acted like nothing happened, talked to the cops about the attack whilst soothing her quivering body. They asked about the dead body as well, which you gave the full truth about; that he attacked you two yesterday and that in his drunk state, you could fend him off. With her help you went through about what happened inside the building today, skipping over the personal parts of course.

Even though you kept a straight, composed face, even when you talked calmly, not a hint of trembling present in your voice, she could see through your façade. You were shaken to your core. She saw the slight flinch of your eyes when the name ‘Lolly’ came up, she felt the almost unnoticeable tightening of your grip around her whenever they asked about your wounds. The little motions your lips, your body, they all gave you away. She has never seen you like this. Scared. You weren’t whilst talking back to someone twice your size, not when you defended her yesterday from the drunk, not when you two fled for your lives today. Not when the knife was inches away from your face. Never

Yet now, you were. The reappearance of Ghostface by itself made Tara too, your state had only worsened hers. She was afraid for you. The worry she felt for you overwhelmed every other emotion that would rise in her. She felt like she needed to stay strong, for the both of you. Falling apart was not an option.

After the ambulance patched you up, the cops approached you once more.

“You’ll have to come with us so that we may pick up your statements at the precinct.”

Tara raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just tell you what happened?”

“Yes, but to officially record it, we need you to be at the station.”

“But-“ Tara started but your soft, gentle hand on her shoulder made her stop.

“Let’s follow the officers Tara” you said, looking at the young woman. You were composed and confident.

She huffed but gave in to you. “Can I call Sam from your phone please? I left mine in your apartment.”

“Here” you mumbled as you absentmindedly handed her yours from your back pocket.

As Tara started to dial in her sister’s number, she saw it was already saved. At the name she raised her brow again. “Who is ‘Geralt’?

“Oh, it’s her” you say, blushing a little. "It's from Witcher.

“I know, but why is this her name?” she asks, turning the screen towards you.

You shy away from her unwavering gaze, then press the call button and push her hand back towards her face. “Oh, no you won’t escape this-“ she starts but Sam is faster, as she immediately picks up the ringing phone. She hears her voice calling out for her from the other end of the line.

"Tara! I just saw the news. Are you okay? Are you hurt? I'm on my way and be there as fast as possib-" her unrelenting assault of words is cut off by Tara.

"Sam, calm down and take a breath. I'm uninjured, but Y/N got a nasty cut on her neck. The police want us to go down to the precinct to pick up our statements. Meet us there?"

"Yeah, sounds good! Be careful!"

"Off what? I'll be surrounded by cops for god's sake!"

"We both now that won't stop him" Sam said, voice low and mournful. Flashing memories of the hospital ran through Tara's mind for a second and sent a shiver down her spine. The dead cop, laying limp on the floor with an open throat, the pain and the fear coming back to her all of a sudden. Her senses numbed, not hearing Sam's voice on the other end of the line, the lights becoming blindingly bright, yet she couldn't close or avert her eyes. She was frozen in place, helpless just like when she was crawling away from her. From the one that said she would be always by her side. The one that said whatever the case, she would keep her safe. The one that said she loved her.

She flinched when she felt something touch her and snapped her head backwards. At your sight she calmed, only now noticing, and taking in her surroundings once again. "Okay Sam, I will. Bye" Tara managed to say, then hung up.

"She knew?" your voice was soft, so soft. Why were you this thoughtful with her always? It made her heartbeat faster, making her able to believe she could be normal again. But life always had a way to prove her wrong, doesn't it?

"By now all of the world could now" she gestured behind you, towards the police line where an army of reporters were lined up. You sighed as you noticed them. "We are gonna meet her at the station."

"Then let's get moving." Tara felt your hand on her back, nudging her gently to get to the police car.

You opened the door for her, then scrambled to the other side to do the same for yourself. When you got in and closed the car, the sounds of the outside vanished, a comfortable silence filling the space. The vehicle soundlessly rolled out to the road, the lights of the city blaring by the window that Tara's head was leaned against. The cops in front were chattering quietly, trying not to disturb you two.

The Carpenter felt odd. Out of place. Everything was calm. Nothing should be calm. Ghostface was back. He was here to bring her and her loved one’s pain, suffering, and death. Why her? Then she thought of the note. This wasn't about her. No, you knew what the name meant, it scared you. This wasn't about her she realized. This was about you. She rethought the attack, every little detail she could think of. She was the first one to get called, but that didn't mean much. All the time, he was staring at you with his dead eyes, always attacking you. She remembered the occasions where he could have wounded her, yet he was focused solely on you.

Tara looked over to your side of the backseats, taking in your features again. You were just as disturbed as her, deep in thought and uncomfortable. You would have looked cute if one didn't know about what had happened. Tara saw your pained gaze, could feel that your thoughts were eating you up inside and hated every moment of it. Your usual smile wasn't there to light her up. She missed your crinkling eyes that could melt the coldest frozen hearts, your witty jokes, that you would throw in the worst time possible. So, she tried to distract you.

"I want an answer" she demanded, looking at you with furrowed eyes. She surprised you with speaking up, that she could see. You looked at her, confused and unfocused. "I want an answer" she repeated. You clearly didn't know what she was talking about, but she needed you to get speaking so you wouldn't shut off again.

"What answer?" your voice full of confusion.

"The answer to my question" Tara said matter-of-factly.

You rolled your eyes at her statement. "Which one Tara?"

"Why the hell is my sister saved in your phone as Geralt of Rivia?"

You reddened instantly, looking everywhere but her. "It was mainly meant to be a joke…"

"But?"

You gulped and glanced over to her a few times. She knew her unwavering gaze would brake your resistance, and it did. "Anika pointed out that he resembles some of his attributes." You say, still not looking at her.

"Like what?" Tara asked playfully. You looked like a child caught in the act of stealing cookies from the fridge. You swallowed again, clearly rethinking your life choices since the date of your birth. "Y/N, don't think that I'll let you off the hook this easily."

"She is strong, layered and protective besides being misunderstood and mistreated!" you blurted out, looking straight at her. Once you did, your eyes widened and went pale as a ghost. Tara could feel her smile widening to unimaginable lengths before bursting out in laughter. "I'm only telling the truth here! Don't laugh at me" you pouted. You looked so kissable.

"N- no it's not you it's just" she tried to say in between laughs. "It's just that it's so accurate. She would be fuming if she heard about this."

"And that's why she will never know!" So kissable.

"Oh, I don't know about that" she smirked. "My tongue is in a slippy mood these days…"

"No, Tara I'm serious!" you pleaded, face contorting in fear. "She would kill me! I have barely made it on her list of tolerated people! I don't want to end up-" she cut you off with her lips on yours. Your eyes widened for a moment, taking in what was happening, but she didn't give you enough time to fully comprehend it. She leaned back and watched your gaping face. After you finally shook off the surprise, you smirked at her. "Well, if I end up like this, I don't mind her knowing."

Tara rolled her eyes at you but the butterflies in her stomach rendered her silent. What exactly was this? You kissed her back, that surely meant you liked her too, right? She didn’t have much time to think because you leaned in to kiss her again, this time deepening it. You cupped her cheek with your right hand, whilst the left on found hold on her waist, gently rubbing circles under the fabric. When you had to separate for air, she pressed her forehead against yours, eyes locking with each other.

“I-“ Tara started, but stopped herself. The words she was about to speak didn’t feel right. Didn’t feel enough. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to think up something that would be better.

“I know” you said simply, caressing her face with your fingers. She opened her eyes again, and your heart started beating faster at the sight of them, full of hope and concern. “Me too.”

Your words made the swarm of butterflies in Tara’s stomach grow into a horde. “Since when?”

“Anika told me what you told Mindy” you said with a smirk. “That’s when I really started to hope for it to be true. I never fully believed it until know though.”

“You mean the time when they got together?” At your nod her face reddened. She then narrowed her eyes and leaned back. “Mindy is dead to me.”

“Oh, come on, they share everything between each other, and Anika could never stand my stare.”

“It was meant to be a secret!”

“If you want to blame someone, blame me for being a too good sister, from which the other can’t keep anything from!”

“Yeah, if anything you’re an idiot” she said, smiling.

“I might be” you leaned back too and smirked at her. “But I’m your idiot now.” Tara’s stomach churned in the most pleasurable way after hearing your words.

------------------

The rest of the route went by in a blink of an eye. Tara and you had talked most of it through, and you were thankful of her for distracting you from your own thoughts. The note rocked you to your core. There were only a few people who could have known that nickname, but you didn’t see any of them capable of killing someone, let alone mutilate them afterwards. The only one died a year ago. She died a year ago.

When your thoughts would start to eat you up again the car stopped. The cops got out and helped you two leave the vehicle as well. You entered the building and were met with the familiar sight of the white walls and crowded office. You couldn’t remember how many days you spent here nagging and annoying your uncle. Yet he wasn’t here anymore, and the thought made you feel alone. Scared. Overwhelmed. Screaming, shouting, begging for it to end…

As if she read your mind, Tara grabbed your hand and interlocked her fingers with you. You looked down at her and smiled, reassuringly squeezing her hand. The cops started leading you two to what you liked to call; ‘interrogation chamber’ in your youth. Whenever you saw the cops bringing in perps in handcuffs, you would imagine how scary it must be for them. You would chase yourself into a corner of your mind where everything was scary and dark. Where she was still free. Still alive. Your only lifebelt being your uncle, who never failed to help you out of there. Now, the room you were closing in on didn’t seem so bad. It felt safe. Funny how time changes perspectives.

“Y/N?” you heard a familiar voice behind you. Not believing your ears your span around, searching for the source. “Y/N! Hey! How are you? What the hell are you doing here?” The source turned out to be a young man, with red hair and sparkling green eyes. Just like your uncle.

“I could ask you the same thing V.”

“Not even a greeting for your most humble cousin? I must say you’ve cha-“ he got cut off when you hugged him so tightly Tara was worried you might brake some bones. “There she is…” he said, wrapping his own hand around you.

“What happened? I thought you are stationed in Washington!”

“I got transferred here upon my request. Being a legacy of pa helped.”

“Kayoko, you two know each other?” one of the officers asked that were escorting you.

“Not intentionally” Vasco smirked and pushed your shoulder a little. You flinched from the pain. His eyes narrowed and without asking pushed the fabric of your shirt to the side, revealing the bloody bandage that was wrapped around the stitched wound. “What happened?” his voice got serious in an instant.

You took a deep breath before answering. “Me and Tara had been attacked in my apartment.” His eyes widened, suddenly gripping your bicep. “It was Ghostface. Now I’m involved in the homicide of a homeless drunk that also attacked us a day before and gave me this” you held up your arm. The wound narrowed since yesterday, yet it still itched and hurt. “Speaking truly, I was the aggressor that time, but that’s unimportant now.” You almost whispered the last sentence. He huffed and shook his head slightly.

“Just my luck” he shook his head. “The first serious case I get, and my family’s involved.”

“You lead the case?”

“No, Wayne does. You know, father’s old partner.” You nodded, as you did, in fact remember the graying man. “I’m in his team and for once, he didn’t put me in the backline.”

“Wayne as in Wayne Bailey?” Tara interrupted.

“How do you know him?” Vasco asked back.

“He’s the father of her roommate.”

“Quinn or E… Oh wait, no. His son is studying at Princton. So, you are Quinn’s roommate huh?”

“I thought her brother died…” Tara said.

“He did. Sorry, he had two siblings. I thought you would know this.”

“No, she never mentioned two” you said as well.

“Sorry to interrupt Kayoko, but we all have our jobs to do” a officer said. “After picking up their statements, you can have them back.”

“Of course, Stan. Apologies” he said and held his hands up.

Before you were lead away, you hugged him again and decided to throw the big ball into the game. “There was a note for me, pinned to the corpse” you whispered in his ear.

“How do you know it was for you?”

“It was meant for Lolly.”

When you pulled away, you saw his struck state. It looked like he froze down, his eyes full of sorrow as he looked at you “I’ll get to work then” he said, threw you a weak smile, and squeezed your shoulder again, before turning around and walking towards his place.

-------------

You needed to wait a little for Bailey to arrive. He was at the scene and missed you there.

“Stan and Mitch are awfully efficient when they don’t need to be” he huffed as he greeted you warmly. He was just as bright and straight as he always used to, even if time had worn him out a little. With you, at least. Tara was a different world. You remembered how he first acted around you and found resemblance. They just needed to warm up to each other, you thought.

They didn’t. From the point he started picking up your statement, he gave her his coldest self. Sam got there in the middle of interrogation, and her being around didn’t help much either. She looked even more dishevelled than last time as she barged into the room, even though half the police force tried to deny her that. When Tara reassured them that she was with you two, they reluctantly let her stay.

You didn’t know whether Tara wanted to hide what you had from her, so you tried to keep the usual distance, but the young Carpenter was having none of it. Once she got a hold of your hand under the table, she wasn’t letting go. Sam clearly saw but didn’t say anything. The only reaction you saw from her, was the small, almost unnoticeable smile on her concerned face, which you took as a good sign.

You explained everything again to Bailey, this time a bit more calmly and provided more information. You described the attack, the phone call, leaving out some information about you and Tara again. Then came the nickname. The grey man tried to go into the depths, but you dodged every question as your father and uncle had thought you to. Noone besides our loved ones will know about this. The vow you made to them resounded in your head, and you never took yourself for a liar. Noone else needs to know. It just wasn’t necessary.

“Who could want to see you two dead?” he asked with a resigning voice, eyeing you and Tara.

“Cmon’ Bailey, you know me! I’m the most charming person in the world” you teased and leaned back, smirking.

“So, half the city. You?” she asked Tara.

Before answering she shook her head slightly. “Can’t think of anyone who’s still alive.”

“Yikes.” you and Bailey said in unison.

The door opened and Stan showed his head in the door. “FBI’s here, claiming jurisdiction.”

Bailey’s face contorted from confusion. “Where are they?”

He stood and left the room, you quickly following behind. No matter how much time you spent here, it could still surprise you. You have seen federal agents once or twice, but never when they claimed a case for themselves. You were interested, the Carpenter sisters following close behind you. Tara wouldn’t let go of your hand, gently squeezing it, so you couldn’t release it, which you wouldn’t, not even if the world was ending. Especially not if the world was ending.

Three doors later Stan opened a door, motioned inside. A woman stood from one of the chairs, blonde, painted shoulder length hair, combat boots and a black outfit with a black leather jacket. You couldn’t make out what they were talking about, but the woman showed her badge and Bailey clearly didn’t like her. A case was laid open on the table, your and Tara’s picture on top of it. The sisters were talking about something, but you didn’t listen, your eyes focusing on the photograph that was taken of the corpse. It looked weird. Not how it looked when you were there.

Your train of thoughts was disrupted by Sam, who just noticed who was inside. “Kirby?”

“Hey Sam” the blonde woman greeted her and squeezed herself past you and Bailey to hug her. “Tara, and you must be Y/N, right?”

“Your detective skills are impressive” you nodded.

“You are the FBI?” Sam asked.

“You guys know each other?” the graying man asked, after Kirby nodded.

“Yeah. We went to Woodsboro high together” the older Carpenter said. “She was a senior when I was a freshman.          “

“We share a certain history, yeah” Kirby agreed. “Look, I’m not trying to get into a jurisdictional pissing contest here, I just want to help” she had a sly smile plastered on her face. “I’ll show you mine” she said, still smiling. “Et cetera.”

You huffed at her words. This was one of the weakest jokes, you have heard today, yet it still made you smile. Kirby had this look of pure confidence and kindness, that made you calm. You looked down at Tara from the corner of your eye and saw her also hiding her grin with her left hand, the other one still holding onto yours.

Bailey scrunched his eyes, but gave in, sharing some information about your statement and about the attack. The woman nodded along, and once he was finished, spoke up. “I already knew about the circumstances of the attack. If we are to catch this maniac, we will have to work together.”

“Yeah, good luck with that!” Sam said, as her patience ran out. “We are getting out of town” to exercise her point, she grabbed Tara’s hand and started leaving the police station. Your heart clenched in a familiar uncomfortable way.

“No!” Tara pulled her hand back and stayed close by your side. “I’m not leaving her behind!” The pain eased a little at her words, yet your mind was screaming for her to leave.

“Also, I can’t let you do that” Bailey cut in. “I’m sorry, but your sister is a person of interest in a homicide. She can’t leave town until the matter is resolved.”

Sam looked at both in disbelief. At Tara because she wanted to stay in a place where a psycho was on the loose, hell bent on hurting her, and at Bailey because of how ridiculous his words have made her feel. There was a maniac on the loose, and they couldn’t leave. They couldn’t leave because of the people that should try to do everything in their might to keep them safe. It was laughable really. When she wanted to word the thoughts that were circling in her head, the lights shut out.

The whole building went dead silent. The only source of light, being the streetlamps outdoors. You felt Tara leaning into you, her heartbeat fastening against your chest. You tightened your grip on her hand, and blinked, so your eyes would adjust to the darkness quicker. There was a hint of smoke in the air, but there was no logical explanation for it. It also smelled like smoke.

A pained scream echoed through the room. The scream of man. After a moment it turned into a growl, becoming ever more silent as something blocked the way of the sound. You heard Bailey and Kirby take out their guns, cocking them, just as all the other cops in the building. You snapped your head in every direction, but you still couldn’t see clearly, only the figures of people. The smoke in the room only got thicker.

A way too familiar voice resounded across the place, filling you with fear. His voice. “Did you miss me, Lolly?”

Another fading scream filled the room, but this time two shots followed it right after. The sound was deafening, and your ears started ringing. You could hear distant orders being barked out even though it came from right next to you, the figures of the two law enforcers disappearing from before you. A million thoughts were blaring through your mind, only some of them useful. Before you could do anything, you felt someone grab your hand and pull you with. After a moment you realised it was Sam, and stopped struggling against her, following her lead. But then she stopped in her tracks.

“No escape for you here, dear.” Ghostface spoke again, from right before you. You looked over Sam and saw him already stabbing towards her. You tried to pull her backwards, but it was too late. The knife sliced into her flesh, a pained groan leaving her mouth as she stumbled back. As you were still pulling her, a cop got between you and him, raising his gun. Three shots were fired, two of them clearly hitting him, but it was as if he didn’t even notice. He lunged forward at his shooter, opening his throat and chest with two precise and fast attacks.

You span around and ran the other way, the Carpenters by your side. The smoke had now filled the entire place, vision impaired. It helped that you had the building memorised by heart, as you took turn after turn. Shots were being fired and the smell of blood mixed with the smell of smoke and gunpowder, creating a metallic, hardly breathable atmosphere.

Then you tripped in something. As you fell, you let go of Tara’s hand and when you looked up, you couldn’t see her no more. You could hear her screaming your name, but you couldn’t answer, the smoke filling your lungs. Then you looked down at what you tripped in. Or as it turned out, who. It was a uniformed cop’s body, struggling for air. He had a stabbed wound in his gorge. Your hands were dripping of his blood, half your clothes soaking in it too. You didn’t know a human could have so much blood in their body, but when you looked around, you saw one more, with also as precise cuts as all the other victims you witnessed. All of them were stabbed at vital organs, or from where they would die in a few seconds or minutes. Not a second wasted.

“Oh, poor Y/N” he said in a condescending voice. “This must be pretty traumatic for you. I almost feel bad.” A hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back by it. “Almost” he whispered in your ear. There was a voice behind the modulator, that was familiar. Your heart skipped a beat after realisation hit you. But that couldn’t be possible. It just couldn’t!

You slumped back to the ground when she suddenly let go of your hair. You looked back behind you, seeing her figure falling onto her back. Another woman stood above you, and you could take out Sam’s boots. She grabbed you, pulled you up and started running, not even waiting for you to be able to catch your balance, just pulled you after her. She barged through a door, that led you to the Northern stairs, where Tara was waiting, tears running down her cheek. She was coughing hard, trying to swallow air desperately, yet she couldn’t. You looked at Sam for a moment, and after you saw one of her hands was occupied with a gun, you picked up Tara in your hands and started running down the stairs, three steps a time.

The ground floor looked similar in its form, but there was no smoke here. Bodies were scattered around the place, some of them civilians, some of them cops. All of them dead. You traced over the room, searching for a specific table, and once you found it ran towards it, leaning Tara against it.

“Y/N what the hell are you doing?!” Sam was trying her best not to snap at you.

“Tara’s going to suffocate if we don’t do something” you answered, opening drawer after drawer to find the item you were looking for. “To our “luck”, Private Alice always holds an inhaler at her desk in case her asthma ever comes back.” Sam accepted this, and turned towards the places Ghostface could come after you.

You found it in the fourth drawer and immediately turned towards the younger Carpenter. You aided her to take it in her mouth and pressed down a few times, just to be sure. She looked at you gratefully after. Her coughing died down slowly, and you helped her up. That’s when you noticed that everything was quiet. No shooting, no footsteps above you, nothing. Was everybody dead?

As to answer that question, the door of the staircase opened, and a very dishevelled looking Kirby stumbled into the room, followed by Bailey and two other cops. You sighed in relief when you saw Vasco in their group. The greying man barked out some orders, and Vasco and two others walked over to you, surrounding the three of you, whilst he and the rest of the cops marched out. Kirby joined him, her gun also raised, eyeing every corner before she disappeared behind a wall.

“Vasco, what the hell is going on?” you asked, suddenly feeling very weak.

“He jumped out a window, after we surrounded him” he said, very quiet. Why was he so quiet?

Then he threw you a glance. The glance, turned into a full-blown stare, his face horrified. You saw his mouth opening, but no notes hit your ear. Your side throbbed of pain, and you looked over to see, why. When you saw the opening that had been carved into you, you did nothing. Nothing else than stare at it, whilst feeling your vision darkening, and getting weaker and weaker. The floor came quicker than you could realise, why it was even getting closer. Suddenly you felt the floor hit you with all it’s might before everything became dark.

[musashi]

just watched your latest youtube video (the one on the aai collection) and i want to thank you for not assuming malice from the actions of the ace attorney wiki admin who refuses to let the relation between franziska and miles be listed as "siblings". I've seen so many people see that and jump to the worst possible conclusion that "this must be because they ship miles and franziska" and not the much more reasonable conclusion that theyre just sort of anal about the nuance of their relationship and what's explicitly canon

i... that is deranged. that is the most wild conclusion to jump to that i can think of.

the aa fandom's violent allergy to actually engaging with the text is... unlike everything i have ever seen. i used to understand being unhappy with canon, wanting to rewrite/fix/add to it, all the memes about "lol i made it better" "canon will be lovingly baked at 400 degrees until it is properly browned" etc but the aa fandom has turned me into an absolute canon-worshipper with how much they just... do not care to acknowledge canon at all, and get WEIRD when you are a person who does.

i don't understand why they get so uppity at the siblings thing. there are a million different ways you can interpret whatever they have going on, but all we know is:

miles studied under manfred von karma

franziska, who also studied under him, affectionately refers to miles as her little brother.

like that's literally it... that's all we have. we don't know if miles lived with them. we don't know if miles considers franziska to be his sister. he never calls her that, and often jumps through hoops to avoid calling her that. why is that? is it that he doesn't see her that way? that he believes his fondness for her is too deep, special, and nuanced to delegate to something simple like 'sister'? is he just being emotionally constipated, a thing we know he is often? meditate on it! why do people just lie, instead? why don't people want to have fun and analyze the relationship?

i don't think it is even "anal" to run the wiki that way. a fandom wiki, like a regular wiki, is supposed to be full of strictly canon information, not conjecture and fanon. if you want conjecture, then get on ao3 or open your word process and make some. but a wiki is meant to provide documented, sourced information, and you cannot say that miles edgeworth considers franziska his sister when he patently says nothing on the matter in canon.

turning that into "its because op ships them" is the most deluded form of thinking i can imagine, and it's so transparent--they're insecure about their headcanons or mad that they were misled by fanon, do not like concrete proof that they were misled, and so they try to paint an innocent person as secretly some sort of deviant or problematic to cast that shame elsewhere. typical 15 year old catholic twitter user behaviour, you meet one you meet em all.

even if they did ship mitsumei, like... who cares, genuinely. they're lines. they're made up. but that's not what's happening here, it's literally just a wiki runner who is running a wiki correctly, and the aa fandom historically HATES canon and facts so they're losing their shit.

one of the youtube videos i have on the backburner is "aa fandom misconceptions" where i'm just going to debunk a thousand of these stupid fucking things one by one. the more time passes the more anxious i get wanting to make it. maybe it's just me being a rules-obsessed autistic, but i cannot stand when people just lie about canon.

[soulc-hilde]

Ch. 04 - Fight, Fight

Pairing: Jey Uso / Josh Fatu x Aries / Ezmeralda Bey

Synopsis: Devoted to her craft and her family, WWE Superstar Ezmeralda has a library of accolades accomplished on her own and by the side of her family like never before. As she leads the Women's Revolution to glory, romance seems to find her at the most unexpected moment... in the ring.

Warning(s): SFW, OC is a black woman, swearing, WWE-canon violence, Non-scripted fights, body shaming, body insecurities, WWE's consistant misogyny is blatant until later chapters, etc.

Cross-posted: Wattpad

Ch. 01 | Ch. 02 | Ch. 03 | Ch. 04 |

Kansas City, MO 

Today before the show, a few of the girls were set out to do an autograph signing. Ezmeralda had taken the opportunity to ditch the scene for some time with her brothers in the ring. The trio run through their drills, going over their move set before taking a quick break. 

"So why ain't you out there with Trin and 'em?" Ezekiel questions, sipping some of his water. 

The youngest triplet shrugs, "we already sell a shit ton of merch as is and I love seeing the fans, but I'm not all for having to dress up and flaunt my body in hopes the sales can put more zeros on our check."

"I hate to say it, but sex sells. Especially as a woman who is being broadcasted and is participating in sports, your body is at least 90% the main concern of the fans and the company. 5% is your knowledge of the craft and the other 5% is your skill. If your face doesn't 'sit right' with them or body doesn't look like this girl or that girl, you either gotta change it or get lost."

"When my brothers and I first started, that was a huge thing going on in WWE. The women, the Divas, were nothing but eye candy. Yeah, they'll do a little this and a little that, but at the end of the day, your sex is what earns the company money while the 'big dogs' get to have their fun and be rightfully paid for doing their jobs."

"Just like in the past and just like now, my body is for myself to enjoy. It's not for everybody and I don't feel comfortable." 

Ezra sighs, irritated. He, himself, has always hated whenever Talent Relations would ask her to play roles that suggested her as nothing more than eye candy or a bed warmer. "Fuck that, let's talk about somethin' else before I get heated."

"What's up with you and Joshua?" He side-eyes her, studying the way her face scrunched at the question. Ezmeralda's lips purse, pushing out into duck lips as if she was a child all over again. She points at the elder Bey, mimicking their great uncle's accent.

"Le'me... Le'me tell yu somet'in'," they burst into laughter. She stutters through her laugh, "me and Josh... are chillin', ye know? We're gettin' to know each other some more."

Ezekiel reels back, face scrunched, "'gettin' to know each other?' Girl, y'all been knowin' each other since like 2008. What else y'all need to know about each other?"

She kisses her teeth, "that's why I said 'some more' dumbass."

"Look," Ezra shakes his head, "all I know is that Josh is like an extra little brother. You? Are my little sister, okay? Both of y'all are my favorite, but I'll be damn if you play with his emotions and he plays with yours, especially with us working together."

"We've talked about it just a little. He understands that I don't have experience in this field and I want to take it slow. I want to learn about myself and my love language before I just go jumping in his arms screaming: 'I'm yours!'"

Ezekiel side eyes her, pushing his palms towards her. "Girl, too much. Too much. We you're brothers, not your girlfriends, nye. All we needed to know was that y'all were taking it slow like Bobby Valentino. That was all." 

She giggles, heading for backstage. "Where you headin'?" Ezra raises an eyebrow. She looks over her shoulder, "Checkin' on my outfit for the night. Your girl gotta look good, ya dig?"

"Aye, can you check on ours, too?" Ezekiel shouts, hanging upside down on the ropes. Instead of answering, Ezmeralda simply shakes her head. 

As Ezmeralda was looking over her outfit, Trinity steps up to her with a scrunched face. "Girl," she trails, collapsing beside the older woman. "Guess what Ariane's pestering about now?"

Immediately, Ezmeralda's face drops as a heavy sigh leaves her chest. "Oh, God. Does that woman ever stop?" 

Trinity snorts, "of course not. So, we're getting ready for the signing when the Bellas and Ariane begin talking about the size of their boobs, especially Nikki's. We get to the booth, Nikki's pushin' them things up as if they weren't already spilling out and Ariane's trying to do the same like, it hurt to watch."

She pauses, "that's when she goes: 'I'mma go to an appointment.'" Ezmeralda's jaw drops, "because Nikki has big boobs?!"

Trinity shrugs, nodding, "basically."

"Nat has big boobs, so big that it looks as if she's pushing them up when she's not and yet look at how the company treats her," the veteran scoffs. "And don't get me started with the fact that the recovery process might set y'all back. It's a stupid decision." 

"Typically, the Divas compete with one another for screen time and climbing the ranks for popularity in the company. One of the biggest things that comes into count is the appearance of them. If they look more like a model or some type of dream woman, you have a step in the door."

She shakes her head, "I've seen women in the business go in and out with several different surgeries on various difference spots of their bodies. I don't really care if they do it, but I always say that it's better to do things for yourself than for others. If it makes you happy? Do it until your heart bursts, but please never do something to make someone else happy cause they never will be."

Los Angeles, CA 

Tired of Ariane's growing bullshit, Trinity had volunteered Ezmeralda as the tag team's third party to the opening of a boutique. Not one for boutiques, especially high end ones or having to dress up on her day, she came up with an ultimatum. She'd go as long as she could bring a 'date,' which was really supposed to be her fellow escapee. 

And who better to invite than her slow burn lover, Joshua?

Dressed in a creme, off the shoulder top and a short, brown skirt with a thigh slit paired with a matching set of brown leather knee high heels and a brown purse, Josh had unintentionally matched with her.

Similarly, the younger Fatu took on a slick yet casual approach, dressed in a creme crewneck and matching jeans with a custom pair of brown and creme low high Air Forces - a birthday gift from yours truly.

The duo walks behind Trinity and Jon, their faces taking on a natural mean mug. It was no secret that Josh was an introvert and preferred socializing on his own terms rather than smiling in the face of strangers everyday.

For Ezmeralda, she was to stand in the public with one interview after another since she was one of the many household names of the company; although, that didn't mean she was willing to do it for free and on her off day.

"Jon, Josh," Ariane's boyfriend, Vincent, calls over his shoulder. "Get your swag on. Swag on, baby, there you go."

Immediately, Josh and Ezmeralda side eye one another. Nearly laughing her ass off, Ezmeralda shakes her head and keeps walking.

"Wait, babe," Ariane stops Vincent, "um, so, you're gonna stand right here. And we're gonna work it." 

Ariane looks over at Trinity and Ezmeralda, "come on, girls. Let's work."

Trinity begrudingly steps forward, pulling the older woman with her. As the three stepped closer to the boutique's entrance, the small group of paparrazzi begin to take photos of them. A few primarily focusing their shots on the veteran posing out of of her element.

Blinded and overstimulated, Ezmeralda walks past them and heads for the door. "I'm'a head inside, y'all," she states.

Ariane quickly tries to pull her back, "no, girl, you need to, you gotta," Trinity goes to follow Ezmeralda in.

"Wait, no, stop. Hold on," Ariane catches them. "Picture, y'all. Come on. You better work. Bitch, you better work."

She goes back to posing while Trinity carries a large yet tense smile and Ezmeralda simply smoulders in the cameras.

"There's nothing wrong with the glitz and the glam," she laughs. "I've watched my family deal with it for practically, my entire life. I think that's what really sets me apart from others, at times, because I don't care for having a camera in my face every second. I don't care for having every ounce of information about me uttered to the public as it's not their business. I do it cause it's a part of the job."

Even inside the boutique, Ariane and a few photographers were taking pictures rather than enjoying the clothes. Trinity stood beside Ezmeralda, an exhausted pout was prominent on her face. The elder woman pats her on the back.

"You okay, boo?" Trinity nods, "I just wanna do something fun without the cameras and stuff, ya know? Like this, isn't fun."

Ezmeralda pulls her into a quick hug, "don't worry, we'll find something fun without the attention."

As they look at the different shoes, they take that as their moment to talk. "So, what's been going on with you and Ariane, recently?" This ellicits a heavy sigh for the young woman. 

Trinity shakes her head, "we've been butting heads a lot recently. Like, I want us to grow as wrestlers. That's what we're here for, you know? Doing our little dance is cool, I use do that before WWE, but that's not my job anymore. However, Ariane doesn't see it like that. She's so focused on the glitz and the glamour of this, it's like she doesn't really care that much about wrestling."

"Oh," Ezmeralda hums. "It's always been obvious that you and Ariane solely have chemistry because of the time you've had to work with each other, but outside of that, you guys are insanely different to the point where a clash was bound to happen."

Trinity's eyebrows raise. "Really?"

The veteran nods her head. "From the moment she tried going behind Sandra's back to get y'all's costumes without even including you, I knew she was focusing on the wrong things at the wrong time. It's best that you talk to her, not as a friend, but as a business partner cause this can jeopardize your spot in the company."

The two hug, Trinity eyes slightly watering as the stress weighs heavy on her mind. "Thank you, Ezzie."

The woman smiles, "I always got your back, sis. Now, let's go find the twins and sneak out." They laugh, searching for their men. 

Tampa, FL

While on another day off, Trinity, Ezmeralda, Eva, Jojo, and Ariane decided to go for a fun day out Go-Karting. Trinity, especially, wanted to try and deescalate the tension growing between herself and her tag team partner. 

As they all were getting settled, Eva begins to joke. "Ladies, ladies, while I love you, I see that little stand over there," she points at the podium. "I'll be standing on top."

Ezmeralda laughs, "good luck with that, girl. You talkin' to someone who used to steal cars and race them thangs around the block." Jojo and Eva's eyes widen in shock, laughing at the small insight of the superstar's childhood.

Eva and Ariane pose at the top while Trinity shakes her head. "Both of y'all gon' be numbers two and three cause I'm gonna be number one." They all were given their helmets and told the rules and safety regulations.

They begin racing, the mics picking up their laughs with every drift and crash. Once the race was over, the official hands out their papers while announcing their placements. "In fifth place, we have Trinity."

She playfully snatches the paper out of his hands, crumbling it as the others laugh. "Fourth place, we have Jojo," he announces, handing the girl her paper as she giggled beside Trinity. "In third, we have Eva." The redhead's jaw drops. 

"What? I didn't get first?" She laughs, taking the bronze metal. Ezmeralda laughs, "damn, that's tough." The official continues, "in second, is Ariane." 

The woman's jaw drops, she side eyes Ezmeralda and swings her hair. "Girl, bye," she kisses her teeth, taking the silver. "And finally, but not least, in first with the gold is Ezzie." The superstar takes the gold, sliding it over her head with a little dance.

She climbs to the top, "yessir! Yessir!" She sings. "I'm a gamer, I do this, yuh." The others laugh. Afterwards, the group chilled on the side, talking.

"You was all about winning, passing me and everything. Both of y'all lapped me, but now look at you," Trinity jokes, pointing at Eva and Ariane.

"Don't be mad because you're slow, girl," Ariane chastises.

Trinity laughs, catching Eva in a small hug, "I'm not mad. I'm not a sore loser. Ezzie won, you got second place; congratulations."

Empathetically, Ezmeralda knew what was bound to happen due to the brewing conflict between the women. She wraps an arm around Trinity's waist.

"You could be a little more sincere about it," Ariane argues, receiving a side eye from Ezmeralda.

Trinity continues to try and brush her off, "get over it. Sincere about what?"

"Because you're like, uh, congratulations. You're just being bitter right now."

Trinity gives her a face. "I'm not being bitter. You're doing too much right now. It's a game, who cares?" Ariane holds up her metal, "but I won, though."

At this point Trinity and Ezmeralda was getting annoyed. "Don't get hot," Ariane taunts.

"I'm the one that wins the matches," Trinity states. Ariane raises her eyebrows, "oh, so you're the one who wins the matches? But when it comes to speaking, I'm the one who can talk on the mic."

Trinity tilts her head, "I can speak very well for myself." Ariane points at her, "you wanna take it there?" Trinity shrugs, "it's already took there."

"Trin's a lot better than me cause I would've already sent a right in Ariane's mouth cause you ain't finna talk to me any kind of way like that. And all over a mediocre race? Girl, four-year-olds could win that medal if they want to, who gives a damn? What? Your daddy, mommy, ain't never said 'congrats?' Well, here you go:"

She claps her hands, "congrats. Damn, now shut up."

"What you gettin' hot for?" Trinity looks at her. "Because you just took it to a whole other level," Ariane argues.

Trinity raises her eyebrow, "I didn't. Is it not true? Am I not the one that wins the matches?"

"Uh, yes, your Honor. It is true that my client, Trinity McCray, does in fact win all their matches," Ezmeralda exaggeratedly adjusts her glasses. 

"Okay," Ariane huffs, "so you win every single match?" She waves her hand, "actually, I'm done. I'm ready to go."

Trinity shakes her head, looking at Ezmeralda. "This is what I'm talking about. She's too much sometimes." 

They continue to go back and forth, Ariane's squeaky voice rising with every rebuttal. As they get ready to go, the duo begin to push at one another. Quickly, Ezmeralda wraps an arm around Trinity's waist in an effort to hold her back.

"It's not worth it, sis. Not in public and not with our job."

"I'm putting $100 on Trin. Ariane ain't got a chance to even lift her arm before she gets knocked clean out." Ezmeralda laughs.

Monday Night Raw

As a result of Trinity and Ariane splitting, some changes have appeared and one of them was Ariane was to compete against Aksana while Trinity was to compete against Ezmeralda which meant that the triplet's original match against The Shield was then switched to Team Hell No and John Cena vs. The Shield.

As Trinity and Ezmeralda's match was coming up, the newly dressed superstar stood in the Guerilla with the twins and her brother.

"Aye, now, take it easy on my baby," Jon jokes pulling the woman into a hug. 

"Boy, hush, if there's anyone I trust to go against as a rookie, it's my good sis," Ezmeralda laughs. "She just has ring rust. This is her moment to dust it off and find her moment to shine."

Her theme goes off as green stobe lights begin taking over the stadium. She smiles, "time for Aries to welcome the new meat."

Hyped, she skips through the curtain before switching to her signature strut out into the spotlight. Raising her arms at the climax, she dramatically bends down as the pyro sets off. Coming back up, she leads into a leap with a roar that mixed with the music. She slapped the hands of the excited fans before reaching the ring. Settled in her corner, pacing while in character, she watches as the familiar disco intro of the Funkadactyls plays.

Excited, Trinity comes skipping down the ramp with her signature pompoms. As she reaches the opposite of the ring from Ezmeralda, she leaps over the top rope with a split. Just moments before the bell rang, the veteran catches Trinity's eyes and sends a subtle nod of communication which she sends back.

The duo begin a match of trade offs and reversals, Naomi specifically taking on a defensive approach to Aries' typical fast yet offensive one. Despite the unnoticeable change in Aries' move-set, the fans weren't able to identify the lack of emphasis with every spot. 

Unbeknownst to the WWE Universe, Divas in positions like Naomi and the Bellas weren't trained to take powered slams neither were they trained to give them out. Thankfully, when training with the likes of Aries, she wasn't much of a rule follower anyways. 

As they keep going, Aries' approach then switches to take on the fast paced, arial based luchadore style adopted from her father. She notices that Naomi was slowing down, winded and fighting for her breath.

The dancer climbs the top rope, going for a crossbody; however, she overcalculated the landing. With ease, Aries' arms wrap around her torso to catch the woman as they fall back. Aries’ sell coming off as a cushion for Naomi's landing.

Naomi gets the pin on her, but Trinity as the athlete was not happy with her own performance. As they meet up backstage, Ezmeralda pulls her into a hug.

"You did good, love. We'll definitely have to work on your in-ring stamina, but you have the skills and can hit the spots. How'd it feel?"

She shakes her head, "I loved getting that chance, but I do wish for Ariane to be there cause that's all I know."

Ezmeralda nods, "I know, love, it's gonna be alright. You'll just have to talk this out and see how to solve this tension or find a way to keep yourselves connected." Trinity nods, the two walking further backstage.

Next chapter is gonna take a different turn with more Ezmeralda and Josh moments especially with Natalya's bachelorette party in Vegas coming up.

[saibugslegacy]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Hogtober Day 3 - Sebastian Sallow

Word Count: 1482 Characters/Relationship(s): Ambrose Varyn, Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt Setting: 5th year, canon, Undercroft and Room of Requirement Genre/Tags: Angst, the start of what I like to call the "Sebrose Divorce Arc"

“Now for the moment of truth,” Sebastian said. He was obviously nervous and Ambrose didn’t blame him. If this canvas didn’t fit into the Triptych…

“It has to fit,” Ambrose said.

He approached the triptych and lined up the canvas with the panel on the right side. As soon as he laid it out the canvas piece grew and mended itself until it fit the space so well it was like it had never left it. Ambrose heard Sebastian sigh in relief behind him.

The new view was a coastline, specifically a cliff face with trees lining the top. Ambrose had no idea where it was. He was incredibly lucky Sebastian grew up in the Hogwarts area or they would be completely lost.

“I don’t suppose you recognize the location in this bit of canvas?” Ambrose asked.

“The good news is, I do, in fact,” Sebastian answered.

“And the bad news?”

“We’re in for more trouble.”

Now it was Ambrose’s turn to sigh, though not in relief. Of course. Why could nothing be simple? Why did he have to blast his way through goblins and poachers to complete even simple tasks like retrieving a piece of a portrait?

“I know that coast,” Sebastian told him. There was an edge to his voice Ambrose didn’t like. “Ranrok has taken over a huge mine and the surrounding area. Marunweem has suffered for it. It’s as bad as Feldcroft’s become. Should we head there now?”

Ambrose’s impulse was to say yes and just go to get it over with. What was one more of Ranrok’s messes to clean up? After that he was sure there’d be another. Better to get on top of it and get the job done than whine about it.

Unless there was a better way. Maybe instead of cleaning up all of Ranrok’s messes Ambrose could stop him from making them at all. He already had another pair of eyes that would suit that exact purpose.

“We should wait,” Ambrose suggested.

“Why?” Sebastian demanded. Ambrose narrowed his eyes at the tone but he let it slide like he always did. Sebastian always got touchy around the subject of Ranrok and goblins, but Ambrose knew Sebastian well enough to know touchy was all it would be.

“We’ve been a step behind Ranrok this whole time,” Ambrose pointed out. “I may know someone who could help us get ahead.”

“Who is that?” Sebastian asked. See, he was already more on edge than angry, which was progress.

“A friendly goblin,” Ambrose said, completely thoughtlessly. Maybe the rest of the situation could have been avoided had he put a little more thought into his words and the boy in front of him. “He won’t-”

“A friendly goblin?” Sebastian exclaimed. “You know goblins cursed my sister to shut her up. Said she should be ‘seen and not heard’.”

Ambrose did know that. He bit back another sigh. Sighing seemed to be all he did nowadays.

“I do,” Ambrose replied patiently. “But not all goblins-”

“Not all goblins what?!” Sebastian cried. “Have you forgotten Feldcroft? Have you forgotten the mine we just went through?”

Ambrose felt his fingers clenching into a fist as he tried to control his frustration. Sometimes Sebastian reacted in anger in a way he didn’t mean. All Ambrose had to do was stay calm and the anger would pass. But with Sebastian continuing to interrupt him he wasn’t sure how long his patience would hold.

Ambrose hated being angry. It made him feel dirty and wrong. He especially hated acting on his anger. That made him feel like his mother. His patience was his virtue. It kept him calm, collected, and had saved multiple tense situations from escalating.

But over the last few months he hadn’t been able to wish away his anger. He pushed it away but it just stored itself in the back of his mind. His frustration, exhaustion, irritation, even the pure rage he felt when the Poachers attacked his brother. He was on the edge of snapping already and Sebastian was making it hard.

“No, Sebastian, I haven’t,” Ambrose assured him. “But you aren’t listening to me.”

“Why would I listen to someone so ignorant?!”

Ambrose swung.

His fist collided with Sebastian’s jaw, sending him stumbling into the wall behind him. Before he even realized what he was doing Ambrose swung again, hitting him in the temple and leaving him sprawled on the ground.

“How fucking dare you,” Ambrose growled. “Ignorant? Me?! After everything I’ve done for you? I was right there next yo uou through your tempter tantrums and outbursts and stupid decisions, having your back you ungrateful child. I ask you for this one thing, to have an open mind and be reasonable, and you called me ignorant?!”

“You are so full of spite and bitterness you don’t even see it. How your darkness infects everyone around you. How ignorant you are. I clung to you anyway, so sure I could help you. For once not because I thought it was my responsibility, but because I wanted to because for some reason I care about you. I wanted to be your light but now I’m not even sure you deserve it. You don’t deserve my patience. You don’t deserve my trust. And after that you don’t deserve my friendship.”

“Then keep it!” Sebastian shouted back. “I don’t want it anymore if you’re going to think like this! I don’t want to be saved! I don’t need saved! Anne does! And if you aren’t going to help me get justice for her or save her then stay out of my life.”

Ambrose wanted to stay. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe to apologize. Maybe to yell more. Maybe to try and reason with him. But none of those things happened. None of those things would matter. Sebastian would hear none of them. So he left Sebastian there on a floor with an already forming bruise on his jaw and Ambrose’s broken heart right next to him.

He didn’t really expect anyone to look for him. No one else knew what happened to him. He assumed he could spend the rest of the night right where he was and just gather himself in the morning. As always, he underestimated his boyfriend.

When Ominis found him the Room of Requirement had been completely torn apart. As soon as Ambrose had stormed in he’d sent Deek away so the house elf wouldn’t have to see it, then he started throwing things to the ground and casting every destructive curse he knew. By the time he’d sank to the ground on the staircase, broken and defeated, there was nothing left intact.

His desk was in charred pieces. The potions stations had been demolished, spilling ingredients, glass phials, and deformed cauldrons onto the floor. Dirt covered half the room after he cast bombarda at his plants. Most of them were on fire now. The banners and statues he used to decorate the room had been torn apart.

When the door opened Ambrose didn’t bother to move other than to turn his head. Ominis stood there, wand lit with red light. He seemed frozen, trying to take in however much of the damage his wand could pick up. Ambrose wanted to warn him to be careful since he wouldn’t be able to see things like embers and glass, but his voice didn’t seem to work.

“Reparo,” Ominis casted. The spell worked perfectly. He’d need new ingredients and seeds but everything else fixed itself right before his eyes, down to the Slytherin banners on the wall. He felt sick looking at them now. His brain kept going back to the Scriptorium, where he���d let Sebastian torture him only for everything to end like this.

“Ambrose?” Ominis called into the room, grip on his wand so tight Ambrose could see his white knuckles from across the room. Right, Ambrose probably blended into the chaos Ominis had fixed for him.

“Over here,” Ambrose muttered.

Ominis approached him, putting a hand out to feel the staircase. He slid down to sit next to Ambrose. For a few minutes nothing happened. Neither of them moved or spoke or even touched. Just being around Ominis helped him relax some. It was hard to be angry around him. Not that he had much anger left. Now he just felt lost. At least with Ominis he didn’t feel alone.

“What happened?” Ominis asked quietly.

“Sebastian Sallow,” Ambrose answered, but calling his mumbles speech may be a stretch.

“I see,” Ominis sighed.

He scooted closer and Ambrose turned to rest his head on Ominis’s shoulder. Ominis set down his wand to wrap his arms around Ambrose’s shoulders and just held him. Maybe Ambrose should have cried. He probably needed to. There was no better time to do it. But he didn’t have tears or rage left. All of it was gone along with Sebastian.

[alj4890]

Searching

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart One Shot

Rewriting Book 1's Chapter Four: Dolores

A/N Honestly, this chapter bothered me on so many levels. As someone who has gone through two high risk pregnancies and been to the emergency room more times than I'd like to think about, my obgyn (or one from the group) was the one to always treat me as soon as the E.R. doctors found out I was pregnant. So to have an intern and Ethan treat Dolores and allow HER, the patient, to make life threatening decisions on postponing the surgery just *hits head on wall repeatedly*. So, even if I hate to continue this line of treatment to a fictional pregnant woman (and since this is a rewrite I'm definitely changing the canon ending for my own sake!), here's how I would think this chapter would have gone with what we see from Tobias in Book 3. He was never one to hesitate in making decisions, which was shown in the chapter with the man having seizures. For the Ethan stans (which I love him too!) I never understood PB's reasoning to let him, this brilliant doctor, allow Dolores to talk him into postponing emergency treatment. I don't think with what we know of him that he would have waited either.

Masterlist

****************

It'd been hard to tell an old friend that she and her child were in danger. After Chris ran the tests, he saw immediately what the next necessary steps were. Tobias sent for the oncall obgyn to get their opinion. They next prepared Dr. Tanaka's surgical team for what needed to be done. Both NICU and the obstetrician were scrubbing up to assist in surgery.

"Tobias, no!" Dolores cried out as she was wheeled from the E.R. to surgery. "Please, give me more time."

"We don't have time." He squeezed her hand as he walked beside the gurney. "It isn't safe for you or the baby to wait another second."

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "What will happen to my baby?"

"He'll have the best care in NICU." He promised her. "And you'll be able to watch over him while he's there."

She sniffled as more tears fell. As much as she trusted him, hearing the news that her baby would be born so early scared her more than anything. Thoughts of if she did something wrong flooded through her mind. Those thoughts gave way to the plans she'd made to give her son the best of everything in life and that included the right beginning.

She still didn't have his nursery ready. Her sister was coming into town the following week to help her pick out a crib. She'd bought nothing, save for a little frog. Once she saw the soft blanketed stuffed animal, she knew it was perfect for her own little tadpole.

"I wish I had his little frog. He needs his first toy. I planned on giving it to him when he was born." She mumbled.

Dolores felt ridiculous. Here she was thinking of a stupid toy when her world was turned upside down. In that panic filled moment, she would give anything to not have lost it in the fire.

Tobias let go of her hand once they took her into surgery. He stood there outside the automatic doors with a heart heavy with worry. He knew the chances of their survival were slightly better for her than if the fire had never happened. He couldn't imagine her alone in her apartment when a seizure struck.

"Dr. Carrick?"

He turned towards Chris. He'd completely forgotten about basically taking her patient away and not giving her a chance to treat Dolores.

"Sorry about taking the decision from you, Valentine." He apologized. "But--"

"No, you did the right thing." Chris interrupted.

"It was the only decision that could be made." He added, hoping she really understood. "As much as Dolores fought against it, this was the only way to give them both a chance at survival."

"I know." She mumbled, arms folding across her torso as if chilled. "And I know how difficult it has to be to tell someone something like that, especially if you're close to them. Honestly, it's hard to stand there and tell a patient I don't know that it doesn't look good."

He nodded, his lips firming in a grim line. He knew it was difficult for some doctors to state the truth. He was one of the lucky ones who could separate his feelings in that moment and tell someone their illness was terminal or that their chances were not as great as one would hope.

No one doubted he cared as he treated his patients. People soon realized that the reason he could so easily tell someone they were dying was because he was the kind who would want a doctor to tell him the absolute, non-sugarcoated, truth if he had a terminal condition. He knew the only way a person could cope was if they had all the facts.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he slumped against the wall.

"I think this is worse than giving a patient bad news." He told her. "Waiting to see what happens with a necessary treatment makes the job, at least for me, harder."

Chris leaned beside him. She quietly studied his dejected demeanor and felt a longing to comfort him. It wasn't the usual feelings when she saw a friend or patient sad. Something about Tobias made her want to be the only one he would turn to in times like this.

Nudging him with her elbow, she tried to keep his spirits up.

"You did everything you could to give this a chance to work." She reminded him. "There's a great team in there fighting for both Dolores and her baby because of you and your quick diagnosis."

Tobias snorted softly. Her fervent words were spoken with such conviction that it made him wonder just what she felt for him. Was it simple admiration or possibly something more heartfelt?

"Careful, Rookie. That sounds dangerously close to hero worship."

Her laughter was a stark contrast to the eerily quiet hallway. It brought a smile to his face as he listened to the joyful sound. Something about the way Chris laughed made him want to join in. It didn't matter if he was able to cause it or if he happened to overhear it. He simply wanted to be near her and enjoy the infectious feelings that came over him whenever he knew she was happy.

With a smile lingering, she quipped back, "I admire you a great deal, Dr. Carrick, but hero worship might be pushing it."

"I'll get there one day." He teased.

Still smiling she shook her head. After a few moments of companionable silence, a yawn slipped out.

"What time does your shift end?" Tobias asked.

"About two hours ago." She replied.

"Go home." He ordered. "Me and everyone else here will need you well rested for whatever we have to face tomorrow."

"I want to stay and see how Dolores is." She argued. "I know you took over her case, but I--"

He reached out and gently squeezed her hand, cutting off her argument.

"You still need some sleep, Chris." He tugged her closer, making her heart skip about, then turned her towards an oncall room. "I'll wake you when we know something."

She hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to leave him alone to face whatever was to happen. She knew there was a chance, one too horrible to contemplate, that Dolores and her baby might not survive. The thought alone broke her heart. She couldn't let him deal with the outcome without someone there to comfort him.

She knew if it was reversed, she'd want him by her side.

"I don't think I could fall asleep." Chris checked the time. "Why don't we get out of here?"

His eyebrow lifted while a flirty smile popped up. "Me and you?"

"Easy there." She teased. "As fun as that would be, I thought we could go look for Dolores's frog."

He glanced once again at the surgical doors. She could see both his wanting to leave and his need to stick around until the end warring within him.

"I think it would make this a little easier on her if we could find it. If we can't, maybe there's a store nearby where we can find a replacement." Chris added.

Tobias studied her for a few seconds in silence. He'd suspected she had a tender heart from the first time he'd seen her with a patient. He was pleased, especially in this particular situation, to see that he was right.

"Let me get my car keys." He jogged off towards the locker room.

***************

"So?" Chris began once they left. "How long have you known Dolores?"

"Ten years." Tobias replied. "She was my first patient fresh out of medical school."

"Have you kept in touch?"

"We have, though not as much as we did when we first met." He grinned over the memories. "She and her sister had me and my old roommate over for dinner a lot that first year. Then we'd meet up occasionally. Now we mostly exchange Christmas cards and talk through texts."

"Did you two date?"

Chris couldn't believe her own nerve for asking that.

"No." He replied, chuckling at the notion. "Dolores and her sister have certain tastes in significant others and I didn't line up with what they were looking for."

"Why not?" Chris persisted.

Tobias cut his eyes at her. "Is that disbelief I hear in your voice that someone didn't find me attractive?"

She began to laugh while shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, partly. Mostly I'm curious as to why you didn't line up with their own desires."

"I don't exactly have a reputation for long term relationships." He admitted.

"So I've heard." Chris teased. "In fact, second dates seem to be a rarity in tales of your exploits."

He pulled over near Dolores's office, threw the gear shift into park, and turned towards the woman next to him.

"Does that bother you? Those tales you've heard?"

Chris met his curious gaze and slowly shook her head.

"Not at all."

A flirty smile flashed his way, making his own pop up.

"In fact," she opened her door, "your history reminds me a little of my own."

Tobias unbuckled and hurried after her.

"So you're a heartbreaker?" He asked.

"There might be a few men who would call me that." She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Nowhere near enough to give your reputation a run for its money."

He chuckled as they began to search around the recently burned building.

"Maybe I should be scared." He teased. "I never would have thought you were a love them and leave them kind of person."

"You shouldn't be scared." Chris abruptly stopped to make him bump into her.

The moment his hands landed on her waist to steady them both, she swiftly turned around to face him and draped her arms over his shoulders.

His breath caught when she moved closer to him, head tilting as if she was getting ready for a kiss.

"The ones I left never complained about the loving part." She whispered close to his mouth. "Just imagine how much better it is when I stick around."

Stepping away before he could make a move, she motioned him towards a storm drain.

"Looks like this is where most of the water is going. Maybe the toy got swept down there."

Tobias shook himself out of his shock of having her that close. Once her words registered, he found himself ready to put her to the test. They'd been dancing around the issue for weeks now. With how he felt and how often she flirted with him, he knew without a doubt they were going to happen.

She just had to go and remind him of why they were out here.

One day, he thought, I'll have that perfect moment alone with her and we'll finally begin.

Knowing that standing near a half burnt building wasn't the atmosphere he would want for that to happen, he flattened himself on the pavement.

"It's too dark to see anything down there." He grumbled.

Chris handed him her phone to use as a flashlight.

"I see it." He pushed up off the ground once he realized he couldn't easily get through the opening. "I think I might get stuck if I reach for it."

Chris eyed how his damp shirt molded over his muscles. Her hands ached to see just how they'd feel beneath her palms. She'd caught him a time or two changing in the locker room. It'd taken all of her self control not to ogle him.

He caught her staring. A flash of heat went through him over the way she was checking him out. He couldn't stop his smug smirk from forming.

"I need your mind in that gutter, Valentine."

Chris snorted on her laugh as she forced her eyes off of him to analyze the best way to rescue the toy.

"You think you could use all those muscles I see to not only hold me but also keep me from tumbling down that hole?"

"I can do a lot more than hold you." He winked at her.

"I intend on giving you a chance to prove that one day." She quipped back.

Without complaint, she got down on the wet pavement and scooted towards the drain. Tobias held onto one of her arms while she reached for the toy.

"I can't quite reach it." Chris looked up at him. "Hold my waist so I can scoot further in."

Tobias wrapped his arms around her, smirking when he felt her momentarily stiffen against his body pressed against her lower half.

"You okay?" He couldn't resist asking.

His voice, deeper than usual, made her want to sink against him and see what would happen next.

"More than okay." She looked back at him over her shoulder. "Don't let go."

"I always knew you'd say that to me."

Chris laughed as she reached for the toy.

"If you get stuck down there, Chris," Tobias joked, "I'm leaving you the moment a clown pops up."

"I'm pulling you in with me once I see he has a balloon." She giggled when he playfully pretended he was going to let her go.

She reached a little further and finally managed to snag the edge of the frog's blanket with the tips of her fingers.

"I've got it!"

Tobias pulled her out.

Chris grimaced over the dirty street water coating the front of her scrubs.

"Don't worry." Tobias reached up to wipe a muddy smudge off her cheek. "You're still cute."

"As long as you think so." She smiled over his hand lingering against her damp skin.

"I do." He grinned. "Now let's see what all the fuss was about."

The two examined the dirty little frog.

"Think he's salvageable?" Chris asked.

"We'll see once he's cleaned up." Tobias responded. "If not, I know where the spare key is to the gift shop. I'm sure there's some kind of frog thing in there."

As they walked back to his car, she nudged him with her elbow.

"We make a pretty good team."

Tobias opened the passenger door for her.

"You're just now realizing this?" He teased.

She paused in getting in, folding her arms along the top of the door so she could lean closer to him.

"I suspected we would." Her eyes drifted over his handsome face when he leaned even closer. "Now I'm certain of it."

"Good." He nodded towards her seat. "Let's get you, me, and this pitiful frog cleaned up."

***************

A few hours later, the pair wheeled an exhausted Dolores towards NICU. She was hugging the sterilized frog close to her chest while fighting back tears.

"One of the doctors told me that the first night is the most crucial." She mumbled. "I don't know what I'll do if he..."

Her words were cut off by a gut wrenching sob.

Chris reached down to hug the frightened woman.

"He's a fighter." She whispered. "And having you there will make him fight all the more."

Dolores squeezed her tight while trying to calm down. "Okay. I can do this."

Tobias pushed her wheelchair into the nursery.

"Oh!" Dolores exclaimed when she saw her baby for the first time.

With tears falling she reached out and gently touched her son's hand, laughing some when he gripped her finger.

"My little tadpole." She said while stroking his cheek with her other hand. "I'm so happy to finally meet you."

Tobias placed his hand on her shoulder. "We'll give you two a chance to talk."

Dolores nodded, never taking her eyes off her baby.

Chris wiped at her own tears once they stepped outside.

"Sorry." She sniffed while searching for a tissue. "I know I should be more stoic."

Without saying a word, Tobias draped his arm around her.

She turned towards him to press her face against his shoulder while her body shook with muffled sobs.

He gently rubbed her back.

"It's okay to feel things as a doctor, Chris." He reminded her.

"Not according to one of my professors." She blubbered. "I just know how much harder this could be if we'd lost one or even both of them."

"Yes, it could have ended badly." He hugged her close. "Tonight though, we got a win. We won't always, but for tonight we'll rest in knowing we beat the odds once more."

[generouskittentidalwave]

OKAY, GRABBING YOU FNAF FANS BY THE THROAT RN

IF I HEAR ONE MORE FNAF FAN GO

"BuT, BuT, I waNt FaNdOm MichAeL AfToN/ScHmIdT, It'S LOre AcCuRaTe"

STFU, STFU

First of all, everyone believes the fandom Micheal Schmidt and Micheal Afton is canon, he is NOT. The only thing we know about Mike Schmidt is that he is the silent protagonist in the first game that exists. Then you have Micheal Afton who hasn't been confirmed to be Micheal Schmidt but is hinted at being so in a few instances but is never actually confirmed. All we know about him is that he went into sister location, freed his sister, his dad is William Afton, and he exists for a bit and then dies dramatically and that's it.

THAT'S the ACTUAL canon for Mike Schmidt and Mike Afton

And before you say

"BuT, BuT the LoG BoOk-"

RESPECTFULLY, STFU ABOUT THAT TOO

Yes the book is in his perspective but that book is meant to be a fun insight into the characters and lore, if it was actually through that character's perspective everything would be incredibly limited and let's not forget there isn't even a page on either Micheal.

He is a blank slate character in reality, the one people know of was made up by fans and now new fans are hating the movie because they see the fandom mike and lore as CANON LORE when it ISN'T

AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE FOX BULLY AND CRYING CHILD BECAUSE NOTHING HAS CONFIRMED ANYTHING ABOUT THAT IT IS PURELY FAN SPECULATION, FOR ALL WE KNOW THEY COULD JUST BE RANDOM KIDS

So quiet your whining about "BuT ThE mOviE IsN'T lOrE AcCuRaTe" because what you think is lore accurate isn't actually lore accurate, it's all just speculation on your part

So, in other words-

KEEP YOUR LITTLE MITS AWAY FROM MOVIE MIKE, HE IS THE BEST MIKE WE HAVE GOTTEN SINCE THE BEGINNING AND I WILL DEFEND HIM FROM THE FANDOM WITH A BROOMSTICK ISTG

[elainarcheronslawyer]

You absolving Elain and nesta of providing for themselves and taking advantage of their little sister for years, many of which they were adults, is wild. Elain and nesta took advantage of feyre, it’s repeatedly established, and we meet them when they’re adults and this has been happening for years. Their father obviously sucks but even he was shown doing more than Elain in the cabin even though she was able bodied and an adult when we meet her.

It was absolutely their crime. If you can’t fathom why it’s horrible that feyre was beyond exhausted just risked her life and comes home with food only for elain to be like “when will you finish getting it ready” and have it established she’s never offered to help and has never provided any help and this has been ongoing for years while she’s an adult then idk what to tell you. You lack empathy.

You’re lying to yourself if you don’t get how bad their treatment was. It’s their crime because they could’ve done something to show appreciation or provide for themselves like healthy adults should but they knew feyre would do it so they let her. Nesta even justifies taking Feyre’s money with “I knew you could always get more”. Elain and nesta are guilty in different ways and the same and it’s actually revolting that you’re excusing this abuse and neglect just because you like their characters.

Honestly just read the acofas interview where sjm talks about the fact that feyre was forced to be the caregiver of her sisters and father and had never been prioritized or taken care of is literally linked to how she ended up in a domestic abusive relationship with tamlin.

Elain admits they failed her and neglected her and didn’t help while she gave for years. Nesta admits she did nothing and wanted them all to starve and hated feyre for stepping up and failed Feyre repeatedly. Feyre has deep emotional scars over it that we see repeatedly. To deny this mistreatment was theirs and an established pattern for YEARS, most of which nesta and Elain were adults and most of which feyre was still a child, is unempathetic and ignoring what the books clearly show.

oh goodness let’s tackle this a bit at a time.

firstly, no one is diminishing feyre’s hunting. what she did was something no child should have to do.

it’s almost as if there is no one way to respond to a truly horrific situation. nesta was 22 in acotar and elain was 20. now sjm’s timeline is a mess but that would make them no older than 17 and 15 when they fell in too poverty ( feyre would have been about 13). nesta and elain were barely adults. elain was only an adult for 2 or 3 of those years (again this is unclear due to a slightly messy timeline). however regardless of how long they’d been adults it’s still not their responsibility to provide for the family ( it shouldn’t have been feyre’s either). why? because that responsibility rests solely on the shoulders of their father. my second (rhetorical) question is: who do you think was doing the domestic tasks? because it wasn’t nesta, it wasn’t their useless lump of a father (he was to busy carving wood and neglecting his children) and feyre canonically doesn’t know how to (nor would she have time to after spending her days hunting for food). so it must have been elain. feyre is repeatedly shown to have very little interest in domestic tasks so it is plausible that due to her being an unreliable narrator it just hasn’t occurred to her and therefore it doesn’t occur to the reader. if feyre is starving after a day of hunting why can’t elain be equally as hungry after a day of unrecognised domestic labour? (even if this isn’t the case they are three barley adults in a truly awful situation so i think it’s both acceptable and understandable for them to be hangry). i don’t know how much experience you have with not knowing where your next meal will come from and being constantly hungry but i can tell you it fucking sucks and it brings out the absolute worst in people.

i never said it wasn’t a horrible situation only that it wasn’t nesta or elain’s (or feyre’s for that matter) responsibility.

it’s quite clear that all occupant of that cottage were suffering from some kind of trauma and it’s understandable that they react that way but once again it was only ever their father’s responsibility to find food and money not the sisters. i hadn’t read that interview before this and i did find it very informative so thank you (i think) for the recommendation? however, i do think it is besides the point because once again it was not any of the sisters responsibility it was papa archerons. feyre’s abusive relationship is obviously awful and i recognise how much she craved someone to put her first. but nesta and elain are not the ones at fault. their father is. it was only ever his responsibility to care for his children (and to be quite honest it was his fault they were in that situation in the first place)

also, (i’m actually glad you brought it up) both nesta and elain recognise and apologise for the treatment of feyre and show remorse even after feyre completely destroyed their human lives (albeit accidentally and i don’t think she is solely to blame she only wanted a friend).

finally, obviously i’m not the one lacking in empathy if you’re failing to recognise the trauma carried by all three sisters. nesta was angry and bitter at their father for his failings and neglect, we haven’t had elain’s perspective yet but i’m of the belief that her desperation to bake and cook comes from years of worrying where her next meal is coming from and how whatever feyre brings back is going to feed four people. you seem very familiar with feyre’s trauma so i won’t reiterate it. the only person to blame for the neglect of all three sisters is their father. he had a duty of care and he abused them. (negligence is a form of abuse btw) he was responsible for all of his daughters. he should have done something to help. it shouldn’t have been feyre hunting because it shouldn’t have been any of them. their father neglected them all. elain had to take on the role of his care giver (neither of the others would’ve done it and they shouldn’t have had to). so yes ‘letting’ feyre hunt wasn’t nesta or elain’s crime. it was their father’s and because he’s dead it is highly unlikely he will face the consequences of this and/or apologise to his daughter’s for neglecting them. ( a half arsed confession before he died doesn’t count and pulling his act together just in time for the grand finale in acowar won’t absolve him of his crimes either)

[stargirlie25]

Just saw this.....

Before i say anything let me say i truly want everybody to pay attention to this post and the information inside especially if you agree with the post above.

How little do you know about Elain Archeron?

Let me tell you she has done these things but this person stretched out everything making Elain seem as a person she is not. You seriously think Elain would like anybody who talks about her like this? You think she would be flattered? These are all the people who claim they are Elain stans and change her character left and right.

What's true about what this person said is that she drinks whisky,stabbed the king of hybern,gives airplane gifts,found the suriel, and said ´´I hope they all burn in hell´´. Everything else is false and so disrespectful to her character.

Firstly Elain is seen to be a kind soul who owns up to her mistakes and is thankful for anybody ´s kindness and will remember it forever. That being said, Rhysand was seen once flying Elain to and from The house of wind so she can see her sister. She loves her sister and wants to see her and Rhys is taking her. Do you think she would like that her ´´stans´´ are saying he is her ´´little flying lackey´´ No. She would find you an unpleasant person who lacks respect.

´´Made a 500 year old obsession without even trying´´ You are right. Elain did nothing to have that. It is just because her sisters got with Azriels brothers and the dear shadowsinger formed an idea that Elain is rightfully supposed to be his because you know what, her sisters are with his brothers and that is enough logic. If its an obsession of any sorts, it is an unhealthy one.

Just some reasons:

He feels unworthy to taint her with his presence and hides a part of him (shadows) and hates another (hands) in regards to Elain.

For two years straight all he did was Pump himself and he said himself that he certainly had not gone far with his planning other than his fantasies.

He loved Mor for centuries and after the almost kiss with Elain, he refuses to disclose his feelings for mor. Even in ACOSF it represents he still feels for her.

He says its best to Kill greyson (Elain´s ex lover) even though Elain forbid feyre and others from doing anything to him.

He gets angry at the thought of Elain doing at least something and underestimates her -which is the only canon proof of what he could be thinking so don´t even try. Elain even calls out Nesta who had the same reaction and same reasoning. We have both Nesta and Feyre calling out how they do not like territorial traits from a man.

❗❗❗❗HOSAB SPOILERS❗❗❗❗

He gives credit to Nesta for beheading the king ´´Herself´´ which is a direct parallel to Lucien crediting Elain for her bravery. Before you guys yap about how its factually correct on what he said, do you realise how easy it could have been for sarah to say something like

Azriel said,´´Her sister stabbed the king of hybern,´´ A look towards truthteller and back at bryce and she could have sworn pride swarmed his eyes ´´Nesta beheaded the king of hybern herself´´

Dont bully me i have no idea how to write books but SJM could have put something even more tone down and it would still be an nice Elnotreal moment. Instead she made a direct parallel with what Lucien once said in ACOWAR.

∴ His ´´obsession´´ is super unhealthy.

Anyways whats next?

´´Had the shadowsinger running around´´ I mean go ahead make Elain seem like fricking b**tch. She is so sweet and kind and for some reason you want to take that away to make her seem strong? You have to put down multiple characters to uplift Elain? YOU have to. Not Elain. I can see from people who agree with the statement above (the picture) are simply blind to what Elain offers. There is a strength in her kindness,generosity, manner and feminism. When i see how kind Elain is, i see her strength. I see HER power. She respects all those around her and if i stan her why would i change that narrative?

That being said, Elain would continue to thank everybody who shows her kindness and if you think not than do not even bother saying you are pro Elain.

Same thing with saying she forbid everyone from eating. Elnotreals are seriously taking the forbidden love idea too far. All jokes aside she literally canonically said that they should not wait for her and go ahead and eat. Even if she did say that, no offense to my girl but they would all laugh their a$$ off and continue to eat.

Although Elain distances herself from Lucien, based on her character she would be offended if someone said she does not gaf.

Even this creator would. Imagine i made a anti Elain post saying something along the lines of

´´I hate Elain because she practically does not gaf about the mating bond with lucien and she sucks because of it´´

In this circumstance, you guys would pounce right away and start listing off the reason on why it isn´t the fact she does not gaf its because of _______ etc.

Although you are using it to make her seems as though she is a Girlboss for it? I´m not blaming her because i literally 100% believe it is not the fact she does not care, it's deeper.

´´uglified herself´´ There you go again, disrespecting Elains family, friends. First of all, no one needed Elain to be there, they needed Nesta. They did not choose Elain. They chose Nesta because of her dancing so she could seduce Eris. It was Elains choice to come although no one needed her. Mor always prefers to wear red and she did wear it the court of nightmares. Elain chose to wear black to match as the High Ladys sister in order to match. She herself looks prefers lilaks,blues,pinks but probably told herself she needed to be someone else to fit in. Something Cass and Rhysand has noted. Why are you calling her ugly when her current state is ´´Life being sucked from her´´

You just love disrespecting my girl acting like its a praise. tsk, tsk

Why am i making this post? What if its just a joke?

Its not just that. Many people use this information to uplift Elain while they casually ignore her own choices and personality. So what if this is a joke? On the bottom it says

´´You sure she is not developed enough?´´

Meaning what she wrote is development for Elain. No its not. Its erasing her character and morphing a new one in her place. I could go on and on of other reasons as to why Elain is developed and it is none of those reasons. Most of her development would happen in her own book and from her own pov instead of other characters just like Nesta.

Anyways my hole point is that you dont have to make Elain seem like she runs the ic, or she dominates everybody, or is a mastermind.

Let me get this straight

Feyre is a highlady: STRONG

Nesta is a warrior: STRONG

Elain is a gardener: STRONG

In my opinion it could be stronger. Maybe because im just like her haha but in a world of warrior women or tongue lasher women, she remain her perfect self, Elain Archeron and she would let no man or no ´´stan´´ change that.