#Should've asked when I had the chance in source

[harpoonsnotspoons]

Me when I go on the Bro Strider tag and see muppet sex:

[me-and-your-husband]

widow's bite (1) || e. williams

summary: "...the dangerous Black Widow is to be approached with caution, as the Black Widow's bite can cause death. she encases her victims with silk, then kills with poison from her fangs."

or

you're a black widow. you're sent to kill Spider-Woman. something inside of you just can't do it.

warnings: smut in future chapters, ellie is 18 and reader is 19, dreykov being gross which is canon, mentions of suicide attempt, canon death (sarah), swearing maybe? probs more, not proofread cause i'm lazy

word count: 4k

a/n: soooo i got this request and although it took FOREVER for me to write it, i was so excited that i just had to make it a series...i SWEARRR i'll try to update regularly but going back to uni is kicking my ass a little. also, ellie is basically mcu!peter. some of the avengers may make appearances. tony isn't dead.

You stood tall in front of the massive screen in his office. Videos of a girl in a red and black suit swinging through New York City illuminated your solemn features. At the top of the screen, there were only a few words: Spider-Woman: TERMINATE.

“She keeps coming so close to discovering our New York base,” Dreykov’s accent spread through the dark room. “I can’t have her getting in the way of my work. This is important.”

You nodded, eyes never leaving the screen.

“You will bring her body back to me. She seems to have some sort of abilities, abilities I can use to make you stronger. Better.” His thick hand slithered up your shoulder. “Do you copy?”

“I copy.”

His lips twisted into a sinister smile, his gross breath hot on your cheek. “Always so obedient.” He licked his lips.

He smiled, “You take off…” he glanced at his watch, “right now. I don’t want to see you again until she's dead,” he spat in your ear.

“Yes, sir.”

"Hey! Come back, mister criminal!”

Faint thwips filled the air as Ellie swung past corporate building after corporate building, chasing some burglar who happened to try robbing Delmar’s when she was ordering sandwiches for her and Joel. He would have to wait. She was just lucky she had her suit under her clothes.

He booked it down the sidewalk, cash flying out of the duffle bag, throwing pedestrians to the side as he tried escaping Spider-Woman.

She grunted as she dodged semi-trucks and cars, bikers and typical New York tourists. She almost lost sight of him when he turned a corner, but she could still hear his laboured breathing.

She could sense that he had stopped, under the impression that he had thrown her off his trail. He was resting in an alley up against an apartment building. Climbing to the roof, she perched herself on top as she looked down at him, hands on his knees as he panted.

“Hey, man, I think you forgot this!” She yelled as she dropped next to him. Before he could react, she cocooned him in webbing and left him stuck against the wall.

“You got a pen by any chance?” She asked, to which she had to dodge a ball of spit directed at her head. “Should've guessed.”

She pulled her calculus notebook out of her backpack with one of her good pens and scribbled a note on it:

“This is the one that robbed the bodega. I think you should cut old Delmar a tax break for his troubles.

Love,

Spider-Woman”

She called it into the station and webbed the note to the criminal, webbing his mouth shut too while she was at it.

As she walked out of the alley muttering “all in a day’s work”, she heard the faint pleas of a small child. Letting her heightened senses guide her, she swung until she found the source coming from an open window in a different apartment complex.

She slid the window open far enough to get inside, putting her hands out in front of her when the child noticed her and was frightened.

“No no no! Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Woman, not gonna hurt you! I promise,” she said, getting to the little girl's level. The girl’s eyes softened and she seemed to trust Ellie.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, lip trembling. “My sister…please help.”

“Okay, where is she now?”

The little girl pointed outside of her door, “The kitchen.”

Ellie took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m going to go help her. You stay right here, okay? Don’t move.”

Something inside of her told her that something was wrong. She brushes it off as someone else being in danger.

As she creeps out of the child’s room, she surveys her surroundings. It looked like a regular New York apartment, a little messy, but nothing her and Joel’s place hadn't seen. Everything was fine.

Until it wasn't.

She suddenly had difficulty breathing when you jumped from somewhere above and wrapped your legs around her neck, squeezing. You elbowed her head repeatedly.

She grabbed you by your hips and threw you off of her, gasping for breath. Her naivety still told her that you needed help.

Was it her naivety?

“Calm down, lady! I’m trying to help you!” she said, still gasping. She watched the girl scurry past her and over to you. “I thought I said—”

She stopped talking when she saw you hand the girl a twenty, eyes still trained on Spider-Woman.

Once you knew the child was a safe distance away, you attacked. His voice rang in the back of your head. No casualties. No witnesses.

You lunged at her, hands finding her throat.

“Woah, at least take me on a date first,” she remarked as she easily slid out of your grasp, jumping up to the ceiling and latching on. She webbed your left arm to the wall. You let out a grunt of dissatisfaction as you squeezed your fist, a blade coming out of your cuff and slicing through the web. It was installed in all of the Widows’ suits in case of capture.

“Oh. That's pretty cool, honestly,” she said as she dodged a bullet from your pistol, flipping down from the roof. You charged her again, this time taking out her legs and pinning to the ground. You threw a hook right at her jaw, to which she exclaimed “Ow!”, catching the next one with ease. Your eyes widened as she flipped the two of you over, pinning you underneath her.

“Look, I don't want to—”

Before she could finish, you had sent electric currents through your suit, effectively tazing her.

In her incapacitation, you were able to flip over again and pressure your knee against her neck. While she struggled for air, her legs flailed underneath her. She managed to knee you in the stomach, opening up an opportunity to throw you off her. You both stood up, ready to go at it again, both slightly out of breath.

“Are you gonna say something?” Silence. “Can you even talk?”

She lunged forward in an attempt to pull down the mask that covered half of your face, a piece of fabric resting atop the bridge of your nose. Before she could grab it, you grabbed her wrists, locating her web cartridges. You released another electric current, frying them.

She stepped back, trying to shoot webs, but to no avail. That's when she saw the text on the bicep of your suit: WIDOW-893. “Shit!”

You threw a swift kick into her abdomen while she was caught off guard and knocked her down to her knees. Her eyes widened as you threw punches at her face, too dazed to think of blocking. When she finally grabbed your fist, she could feel the blood from her nose leaking through her mask and could taste metal.

“You’re a Widow? Like Nat?”

You struggled to get your hand out of her grasp. Instead, you pushed all your weight forward and landed on top of her chest, pinning her arms.

You reached forward and slid your fingers under the fabric of her mask. She struggled underneath you, but you had her pinned and she wasn't going anywhere.

You basked in her struggle, slowly sliding the mask off her face.

“I was sent to kill you.”

“So you do talk. Wait—”

“And that's what I’m going to do.”

“Please don't take my mask off. Please. Please don't kill me. Oh god, I have so much to live for, please—!”

You slipped her mask off completely to be met with her perfectly curved and soft lips, her delicate green eyes, and her pretty freckles, her auburn hair messy from having it under the mask. Her brows furrowed and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for it to happen. When it didn't, she slowly opened one eye, and then the other. She was met with you admiring her face, gaze raking over her features.

Your eyes were wide and seemed slightly glassy, and she couldn't help but wonder why they looked so distant. Why it looked like you were trapped behind them.

She realized you weren't pinning her down anymore. She loosened an arm slowly from underneath you and brought it up to the fabric around your face, gently beginning to tug the mask down.

Your cold grasp on her wrist stopped her. “Don't.”

“Why not?” She whispered.

You tore your gaze away from her, standing up. You turned your back to her.

Looking back at her once more, you said, “Because it will end badly."

You moved to leave through the window, but a thought stopped you briefly

The truth is, you didn't know what to do. It's like you had just gained free will, like she had broken some spell. You had thought you were operating on your own terms until now.

You'd been sent to take out powerful men, some women, usually old, usually established, usually somewhat corrupt. But when you saw the fear in the eyes of a girl your age, your body shocked you back into free will.

Your back still to the girl, you just shook your head and jumped.

She coughed as she pushed herself up off the ground and shoved the mask back down over her face, wondering if she'd ever see you again. If she'd ever find out who you really are.

“This is WIDOW-893,” you said into your comm-link, talking to an obscure agent you'd probably never meet. “I need an extraction. I’m sending you my location now.”

Static sounded in your ear before a harsh male voice began, “Has the mission been completed?”

You elected to ignore the question.

“Has the target been eliminated?”

More silence as you hunted for a place to lay low for a bit.

“Widow, has the target been eliminated?!” The agent’s frustration was palpable in his voice.

You swallowed. “Negative.”

“What do you mean, negative? This mission was of utmost— Sorry? Yes, sir.” Some keyboard clicks. “She can hear you now.”

“893, why wasn't your mission completed?” Dreykov’s invigorated voice droned through the comm. You searched for an excuse that wouldn't get you terminated. Or worse.

“The target seems to have heightened senses. She was able to get the jump on me before I was in position. My identity was almost discovered so I was forced to retreat.”

Dreykov let out a pained sigh. Slowly, he said, “I’m only going to tell you this once, agent, so listen very carefully. You are disposable. The mission must proceed, regardless of your comfort. We can easily terminate you and move on to the next Widow. Copy?”

“I copy.”

“Now, if this happens again, I will have you terminated. You get a pass this time because you're one of the…finer specimens we have. You will not be sent an extraction. You will complete this mission in terminating Spider-Woman. Do not make contact until then,” he said, and you could almost feel his hands slithering up your back and around your neck. “And don't think you're not being watched.”

With that, the connection was severed.

Ellie threw the soggy McDonald’s bag down on the kitchen table as Joel stood at the sink washing dishes.

“Couldn't get sandwiches from Delmar’s. Poor guy got robbed again,” she said as she began digging in the bag for her fries.

Joel turned around to give her a shocked look. “Someone’s gotta look out for the people in this city. Lord knows the cops ain’t doin' much,” he said, shaking his head.

“Well…Spider-Woman looks out for people,” Ellie said, tearing the waters. Joel never really sided with J. Jonah Jameson from that stupid news station, but he was never really for the “vigilante” either.

He sighed. “Look, Ellie…I know you think Spider-Woman is cool and all, and I think it's good that she looks out for the normal people of New York, but I think it's irresponsible. I mean, I’m sure she's got people in her life that love her and she’s puttin’ her life at risk seven days a week,” he said as he dried the dishes and put them away.

“Yeah but,” Ellie said through a mouthful of fries, “If you had that power, wouldn't you be responsible for using it for good?”

“Yes, I suppose. But with great power comes great responsibility, Ellie. And with responsibility comes an immense need for balance. Remember that,” he said, turning to look at her.

Ellie swallowed the last few fries as she took a moment to digest what Joel had said. She gave him a meaningful smile before he turned back around to put the last few dishes away.

She couldn't help but think about your “power”. Was it given to you, or forced on you? How did you become so skilled? You were her age, or at least not far off. She’d never met someone so close to her age who held such a huge responsibility. But was it really a responsibility if you were being forced into it?

She knew she'd probably never come across you again, so there wasn't really a reason to overthink it. Right now, she just wanted to finish her Physics homework and watch The Empire Strikes Back with Jesse.

Weeks had gone by and every moment plagued your mind with thoughts of Ellie. Or rather, if you had it in yourself to kill her.

Your immense training in Covert Ops was indeed handy for situations like these. You shadowed Ellie almost 24/7. You followed her on her commute to her high school, which you noted to be Midtown. You surveilled her through the cameras you'd planted in all of her classes. You followed her after school to the alley where she'd leave her school stuff and switch to her second life. You climbed from building to building as you followed her web-slinging as closely as possible without being seen. You searched and searched for something to justify it, something to prove she's a bad person and deserves to be terminated. But nothing. Nothing when she helped old ladies carry their groceries inside, or rescue little girls' cats from trees, or stop lecherous men from harassing women on the street. Especially nothing when you spied through her living room window and saw her laughing with her dad every Sunday morning.

Three weeks after your first attempt at termination, you had stumbled across the perfect moment to investigate your target’s bedroom. She was at a field trip to the Museum of Modern Art with her class, and her dad was at work.

Around noon, you whistled as you climbed the stairs to the apartment, smiling softly as you find the right one. You knock for good measure, and when nobody answers you slide two bobby pins out from your hair when to pick the lock. Classic, but it always works.

When you open the door you lock it again from the inside so nothing would seem astray. You feel an uncomfortable, throbbing pain in your chest as you look around at the framed portraits of your target and her dad, lots from when she was young. One of her holding a medal in a soccer jersey. One of them at a planetarium together. One of them with a model dinosaur in the background, a hat atop its head, both of them grinning.

You creep through the hallway, looking for one room in particular. Opening the first door, you enter an office space. You decide it might be useful in gathering intel on her family.

You slide open a drawer of the filing cabinet labelled “records”. There seemed to be two sections, one for her father’s business, and one for their personal records. The latter had significantly less material. You slid out the folders and placed them on the desk, taking a seat in the chair.

The first folder read: ADOPTION RECORDS

You skimmed the papers and deduced that about five years ago, a man named Joel Miller (presumably the target’s father) and a woman named adopted a girl named Ellie Williams, but had fostered her long before that with a woman named Theresa Servopoulos, the word “deceased��� in brackets next to her name. Anna Williams, her single mother, died shortly after childbirth and a woman named Marlene took her in. However, Marlene gave her up to a foster home once she hit school age.

Another folder read: MEDICAL RECORDS

Ellie had a long history of optometry visits prior to about two years ago, then they just suddenly stopped. There was nothing else really interesting in her file.

Joel, however, was a different story. Medical records that yellowed and flaked at the edges sat in his file from over 20 years ago. He was admitted for a self inflicted GSW to the head shortly after the death of his daughter, Sarah Miller. He was admitted to a psychiatric ward by request of his brother, Tommy Miller, shortly after.

Another file read: ELLIE’S SCHOOL RECORDS

It was evident that Ellie had excelled in school ever since she had settled in with Joel, specifically in the math and science areas. Her transcripts highlighted a bright 4.0 gpa. She had a bright future.

Now with a name for your target, you decided to search her room to gain some more personal intel. Tucking the files away and closing the drawers, you stalked out of the office and down the hall to what was Ellie’s room (the words “Ellie’s Room!” scrawled on a banner on the door making it painfully easy).

The door creaked slightly when you pushed it open. You were immediately hit with the vague sent of pine and mahogany. Dirty flannels and socks were piled in a corner or sometimes littered around the room. An empty ramen cup sat on her nightstand. Notebooks and textbooks filled with complex calculations sat open on her book. Her blankets were peeled back, revealing astronaut bedsheets. “Cute,” you thought.

The cracked open window let in a nice breeze. The light blue walls were littered in posters, photos, and banners. Next to a lesbian flag above her bed were photos of her and the two friends she was always with. Plastered around her room were covers of comics, something called Savage Starlight. There were silly math reference posters, Star Wars posters, and just about everything you would never expect from a crime fighting vigilante.

Her laptop was left open, and a few clicks and an easy password guess later, the screen unlocked to Ellie’s web browser. Her search history made your brows furrow. You expected to find “How to buy weed NYC” or “porn” at the very least.

Search: Is there more than one Black Widow?

Search: Natasha Romanoff history

Search: The Red Room

Search: Dreykov The Red Room

Search: Dreykov Russia

Search: Black Widow Assassins

Search: Natasha Romanoff Phone Number

She had been researching you. Hell, she hadn't done a very good job by the looks of it. And did she really think The Black Widow’s phone number was public information?

You grabbed a figurine from Ellie’s desk and toyed with it as you took a moment to think. Was it really worth taking the life of an innocent girl just for the sustenance of your organization? Was it even your organization? It's not like you could remember how you got there. It's not like you remembered your family, or your friends, or what it was like to have them… It wasn't so bad if you didn't really have anything to compare it to, right?

A soft pressure around your ankles made you look down. Silky webbing coated your boots.

“Sit down,” her voice came from near the window. You turned as much of your body as you could and watched as Ellie gestured to her desk chair. With no choice but to oblige, you sat. She webbed your arms to the armrests, not taking any chances.

She spun the chair to face her direction and then leaned back against the window.

“What do you want with me?” She inquired, green eyes searing into yours.

“I told you. My mission is to-”

“No. If you were going to kill me, I’d be dead already.” Good point.

You broke eye contact and looked around her room dramatically. “Cute room. I like the flag.”

“Tell me what you want with me,” she said, stalking closer to your chair. “I’m not asking this time.”

“What happened to the ‘friendly neighbourhood Spider-Woman’ I met? Do you rest all your guests like this?” You quipped.

“Yeah? Well, forgive me if I’m not so friendly to the one who tried to kill me, has been stalking me for weeks, and broke into my apartment.”

You roll your eyes.

Her large hand wraps around your jaw, forcing you to look in her eyes.

“Roll your eyes one more time and see what happens,” she growls. “Now tell me.”

You jerk your jaw away and kick her in the stomach, enough time for you to effectively sever the webs around your wrists and ankles.

“Fuck, I forgot about those,” Ellie says under her breath as she webs her bedroom door completely shut and stands in front of the window to block your exit.

“Move,” you demand.

“Nope.”

“Move. Or this won't end well for either of us.”

“Nah, I think I’ll just stay right here ‘till you tell me what you want with me.”

You charged her, attempting to throw her to the side and leap through the window she entered through, but she's stronger. She's like brick as she pushes you back.

“Just let me go. I’ve made up my mind anyways. I’m done with you.”

“No can do. I’m not in the habit of letting pretty girls who try to kill me go so easily,” she said, and you felt your cheeks heating up. She webbed the window shut and sat down in her bed, gesturing to her desk chair again. “Come on. I just want to know what your people want with me. Then you can go, I promise.”

You knew it wouldn't hurt to tell her. You'd have to go on the run from Dreykov anyways. Rip your tracker out and all. So you sat and watched as she reached into a drawer in her nightstand and pulled out a pack of peanut M&Ms.

“Want some?” She asked as she peeled it open. You shook your head and she shrugged. “More for me, then.”

“What do you want to know?” You asked.

“Start from the beginning.”

You cleared your throat. “I was given the mission to find you and-”

“No. I get that part, I’m not stupid. I want to know how this happened to you. And how I can help you out of it."

permanent tags:

@winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

ellie taglist:

@chrry1ovr @milly-louise @dankpunks @starhrtz @pedrobaby @urlocalgingersnap @wrendermedone @kissyslut @felsweb @darleneslane

a slash thru your user means i'm unable to tag you!

taglists

[heartsforseo]

Straw hats x child! reader

Summary: Jinbei finally joined the straw hats crew, but he couldn't shake off the feeling of weariness. wc: 585 requested? <yes> <no> requests = open ft: Jinbei, Robin, Nami warning: stalkerism(?), tripping ppl (that's bad kids), not asking for permission

After a long and grueling battle, Kaido and Big Mom, the two most feared pirates in the world, were finally defeated. The crew let out a cheer of triumph and were all filled with relief and joy. During the celebration, we got a new member named Jinbei.

He was a big fella who wore a traditional kimono with pretty patterns. His hair looks fluffy, and his chest looks cuddly. The first thing that came to mind when you first saw him was a plushie!

You and your crew had recently left Wano. It was a beautiful country. The trees to the people. The plants to the extreme scenery. Jinbei, as the crew's helmsman, was steering the wheel, getting directions from Nami to the next destination.

Jinbei couldn't shake the feeling of a constant presence on the ship. Despite the loud noise of the crew's constant chatter, Jinbei's senses were heightened, and he felt like he was being watched. Although he couldn't pinpoint the source of the strange feeling, it was clear that something was amiss, and Jinbei couldn't ignore it.

"This is the perfect chance," you had thought. You had been eyeing Jinbei for quite some time now. The crew knows that you like sleeping in random places. And when you first saw Jinbei, you knew you had to do it.

You approached the helmsman and spoke." "Hi, Mr. Jinbei. Ms. Nami said that the sea should be fine for now. So, you could leave your post and join us!"

"Is that so?" he replied,

You nodded in agreement and continued, "Let's go down Mr. Jinbei!"

You deftly dodged the thin rope you had placed earlier, then heard a thud as you turned around. Quickly, you climbed onto Jinbei's stomach and lay down, leaving the helmsman in shock.

The others, of course, heard the thud. Nami and Robin went up and saw you almost falling asleep on top of Jinbei.

Robin, who was quick to act, pulled you off of Jinbei, earning a little whine from you.

"Y/n, is that how we should act?" She said.

You frowned and didn't dare to look at the three's eyes. Though you have noticed that Jinbei finally got up.

"No…" you quietly muttered.

"And what is the right way?" Robin asked.

"I should ask first…" you answered.

"And what did you not do?" She asked once again.

"I didn't ask…b-but I just wanna know what it's like!" you started tearing up, and your voice started to crack, "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Jinbei!" you wiggled out of Robin's grasp and hugged the fishman's leg.

The fisherman only smiled and chuckled. He then patted your head and said, "No worries, Y/n. You should've asked."

Nami tapped your shoulders from behind, and you immediately turned around. One of her arms was behind her back while the other was squishing your cheek.

"Hey, Y/n, what do you think I got?" She grinned cheekily

"Uhm, candy!" you shouted.

"Boo,"

"Hm, a clip?"

"Boo, do you give up?"

You nodded hastily, excited for the surprise. There, Nami's right arm finally came into your view, and she gave you a medium-sized plushie.

"I noticed you looking at the stores and Jinbei, so I thought I'd get you one. You better be happy, alright?"

"Thank you so much, miss Nami!" You quickly ran from Nami and hugged her legs, thanking her.

"Now, you shouldn't bother Jinbei-san as much, ok? He's also busy. I know you wanted a cuddle buddy, so from now on. He'll be your cuddle buddy!"

A/n: I LOVE JINBEI SO MUCH!!! I JUST FINISHED FISHERMAN ISLAND ARC AND HE IS SO COOL!!!!!!!!!!! I'M SO EXCITED FOR WANO. ALSO I JST FINISHED THE 15TH YEAR SPECIAL ANNIVERSARRY AND HELLO??? BOA LOOKS SO PRETTY AND IMMA NEED THAT JACKET LUFFY!!!

[lavenderchqn]

��𝛨𝛢𝑃𝑇𝛦𝑅 𝟎𝟏𝟑 — GENESIS - PT. 2 (1,2K WORDS) 𝑅𝐸𝐷 𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆 — lyney x f!reader smau

𝑆𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 —

Second year of university should've been everything you thought of it - more studying with human interaction sprinkled throught... What it definitely wasn't supposed to be was an investigation saga where one of your friends goes missing out of nowhere

𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑉𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆 — 𝑀𝐴𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — 𝑁𝐸𝑋𝑇 𝐸𝑃𝐼𝑆𝑂𝐷𝐸 CONTENT WARNING: PANIC ATTACKS

The question asked by [Y/N] changes the atmosphere of the kitchen. It falls into silence, with a hint of cold wind coming from the living room. Nobody comments for a second, trying to wrap their heads around it.

“Is she not upstairs with Navia and Charlotte?” Wriothesley’s the first one to break the ice. 

“When I woke up, she wasn’t there,” Clorinde answers. 

Worry sets into multiple people. The girls are both aware that Lynette wouldn't give up anything to sleep as long as possible. Her being awake at 7 am during summer sounds highly unlikely.

[Y/N] pulls out her phone, dialling her friend. Everyone is sitting, waiting for anything to happen. Not long after, you can hear a faint sound of music coming from above.

Clorinde gets up, saying she’s going to check the upstairs. Soon enough, she leaves the room in search of the source. 

The silence comes once again… accompanied by someone's leg tapping on the floor. 

Neuvillette and Wriothesley also get up to start looking for her downstairs. They both seem hopeful she might be nearby somewhere, taking a cat nap. In their search, they take notice of the opened door to the backyard. Furina and [Y/N] stay in the kitchen, still trying to get ahold of her phone. 

Lyney, who up to this point had only tried to battle his hangover by having espresso, is visibly nervous. As time passes, he looks visibly more uncomfortable.

“The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again late—“ [Y/N] ends the call and puts the phone on the table. Taking a look at the remaining group in the kitchen, her face in discomfort. 

“Is there any way Lynette would just… leave on her own accord?” Furina asks, noticing a notification on [Y/N]’s phone from Clorinde. She managed to locate Lynette's phone… unfortunately. 

With Neuvillette’s and Wriothesley’s return — locating turning unsuccessful — [Y/N] isn’t so sure. 

“Lynette isn’t a person who would do that.” She answers, albeit nervously. Her body is still eating at her. Something is clearly not right. Lynette wouldn’t do this… surely. 

“What are the chances… she’s been kidnapped?” [Y/N] asks. 

The moment those words leave her mouth, Lyney’s head starts spinning. The blood pounds in his ears. His heart pounds in his chest. He can feel he’s falling to the ground. His hands are shaking. Are his eyes seeing double?

He can barely breathe, pain overtaking his body. Every singular breath he takes gets counterattacked with a painful stab. Somebody’s speaking. He doesn’t know who. He doesn’t know what they’re saying. Is he going to die? Surely, he must be. That’s what Lynette would’ve wanted anyway. She wouldn’t want him on this world knowing he allowed her to get kidnapped. It’s his fault. It’s all of his fault. He couldn’t even do the simplest fucking thing and protect her. 

His eyes are drums, pounding with blood. The sole tiles he can see are spinning. It must be his last minutes alive. Why hadn’t anyone said it would be this painful to leave this godforsaken world. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Ever since his birth, his only goal was to protect Lynette. What a pathetic human being he is. Lynette is dead, and he’s next. He shouldn’t have drunk this much. Shouldn’t have drunk at all. If he was sober, she would still be here. 

His throat is closing. No matter how much air he tries to gather, there's no use. He's dying. Why wouldn’t he be able to breathe otherwise? Lynette’s taking her sweet revenge. She wants him to feel as much pain as possible. He deserves this. He disappointed his only biological family member. 

All of a sudden something touches him. He needs to get away. He can’t allow death to take him like this. He pushes as hard as he can. Has something fallen? It doesn’t matter. He must run. No matter how he needs to get away. 

Furina starts breathing heavily. Her eyes wander all over the room, trying to figure out what happened just now. She’s not the only one confused at what just transpired. Wriothesley is stuck around frozen in his place. [Y/N]’s eyes cannot stop blinking, trying to take the information in.

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette’s cold voice exclaims. “Get me an ice pack. I’m getting Furina out of here. Best we do that before she also has a panic attack.” 

He does as he says, helping the girl to her feet and leading her out of the room. Now it’s just Wriothesley and [Y/N] left in the kitchen. 

“C-can we even get him under control?” She whispers, clearly worried about ending up like the girl. She’s still trying to process the way Lyney pushed Furina’s body into the cabinets. 

“We have to,” Wriothesley states. “For his own sake.” 

The commotion downstairs gets Charlotte, Navia and Clorinde on their feet. They are getting downstairs to get to the kitchen before being stopped by Neuvillette.

“What just happened?” Navia asks, looking around for answers. She notices the glassy eyes of Furina and the mildly pissed-off look of Neuvillette’s. 

"Are you alright?" Charlotte adds. "We've just heard a crash." 

“Take pictures of the house.” He says. “We’re going to need evidence.” 

Charlotte takes out her phone and heads upstairs to get the task done. She can hear Navia’s shout, asking her to find a bag to put Lynette’s phone in. 

“I take it Lyney didn’t take the news well?” Clorinde asks, stealing a glance at Furina’s body. With how Neuvillette’s body is shielding a part of her from the eyes of the girls… something must’ve happened. Navia puts a hand on Clorinde’s shoulder. She’s quietly signifying to not push either of them further.

“Do whatever you have to, Neuvillette,” She smiles sadly. “We’ll take a look in the garden.”  With that, they are off — ready to check if there was any way for a kidnapper to get into the house. 

“You can cry now, nobody’s watching.” 

“How… rude.” Furina elbows him for that comment, before wiping her tears away. Her breathing is more stable now, with the adrenaline in her body decreasing. 

“Be glad. From what I’m seeing, you’ll end up with a bruise or two at most.” Neuvillette stands in the entryway to the kitchen, waiting for the ice. 

"I can't believe how you're able to be calm through all that!" 

“Wriothesley, could you please… get that ice?” [Y/N] keeps her eyes on Lyney who's still breathing heavily in the other room. She must do everything in her power to help him back to reality. 

“Yeah… absolutely.” He starts gathering the ice and stuffing it into the bag. “I’m not usually like this. My bad.” 

He manages to pass the bag to Neuvillette before taking a seat. His body is still processing everything that happened this morning. 

In the meantime, [Y/N] moves closer to Lyney. She needs to put as little weight into her steps to not scare him away. From how quiet he is, the attack he’s going through must’ve tired the male out. Although his breathing is still uneven, it’s not as quick as it was moments ago. 

She inches as close as possible without touching him. She sits on the floor directly in front of him. While [Y/N] cannot guarantee that her words will be able to get to him… She hopes they will offer him even the tiniest bit of comfort. 

“Lyney. We’re going to find Lynette. I promise you that on my heart.” She puts up her pinky finger in his direction, her other hand on her chest.

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇 — OPEN

@state-of-grac3 @santaluna @meigalaxy @romyoia

@meurtreofcrows @charles-braindump @floweringanna @moonjellyfishie @vavrin

date of publishing — august 28th 2024

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

Left Alone

Wednesday x Kitsune!Reader

Part One|Part Two|Part Three|Part Four|Part Five|Part Six|Part Seven

The darkness of Crackstone Crypt was the only thing keeping your friends from seeing your rolling eyes. The six of you were crammed behind the founder's resting place, hiding and waiting to surprise a certain goth.

"She's not gonna be surprised," you repeated for the n-teenth time. "We all know Wednesday hates birthday parties."

Xavier just sighs, annoyed with you. "You can leave anytime. We're just doing what friends do."

Before you can retort, the door to the crypt creaks open. While you thought it would be fun to ruin the surprise, dealing with the school elites being annoyed at you seemed more than it was worth.

Wednesday was a perceptive person. She could feel that something was off. It wasn't until she heard a cough did she know where the source was. It was quiet for only a moment before a threat from the goth triggered the surprise chorus of the birthday song.

You were the only one not singing. This was awkward enough.

"I should've known you were behind this." Wednesday glares at Thing. "What part of 'no party under penalty of death' did you not understand?"

You raised your hand. "For the record, I tried to convince them to not do this."

"And yet, you are still here."

"Hard to say no to free cake."

"And I think my cake design is pretty inspired," Xavier said. The cake was almost black with a reaper upon it holding a pink balloon.

"The balloon was my little touch." Enid seemed so proud of her addition. "Why don't you make a wish?"

The birthday girl just turns away from the group. In doing so, her eyes land on a phrase carved in the wall.

"This... This is Latin." She leans close to read it. You step forward from the group, intrigued. "Fire will rain... When I rise."

Enid looks on with confusion. "That's not really a wish..."

"Wait, that first part," you start. "It was burnt on the lawn at the end of Parents' Weekend." Wednesday nods in reply. "It can't be a coincidence..."

Ajax mourns the fact that the cake will remain uneaten. It draws everyone's attention as Wednesday runs her hand across the carved phrase. The vision hits and it throws her head back, making her fall back. Everyone gasps except you, who managed to be quick enough to catch her before the goth's head hit the stone.

Chatter erupts as your friends ask what was wrong. Your hand just goes up to silence them.

"Don't worry about it. It's something that happens." You pull Wednesday towards your body and lift her up. "I'll take her back to the dorms. You guys can enjoy the cake."

Xavier steps forward. "I can help. Lemme carry her."

"I got it, man." You weren't about to let him carry her. You knew Wednesday would rather gouge her eyes out. "Neither of us wanted to be here anyway."

With that, you exit the crypt and hope that Wednesday won't be out for too long.

Sneaking up to Ophelia Hall and into Enid's and Wednesday's dorm room was harder than it needed to be. You had to dodge other sneaking students and Ms. Thornhill. If only you had illusion powers but alas, not yet.

You did make your way up without getting noticed, at least. But, as soon as you laid Wednesday down on her bed, she woke up.

"Oh, well. At least we got outta there." You pulled a chair up as Wednesday sat up on the bed. "What was it this time?"

Dark eyes stare at you. You knew that the chance of the goth answering was slim, but you were curious. The debate could be seen in her eyes before her mouth opens.

"I saw Goody again," she began, to your surprise. "There's somewhere I have to go to find more clues, but I'm not sure where."

"Any idea of where to start?"

"There was a gate. I'll have to sketch it out and see if anyone knows of it."

"It's something at least," you state. "Was that it?"

There was a pause before Wednesday nods. She didn't need to give you every detail. With a nod, you stood up and placed the chair back where it belonged.

"Now that you're awake, I'll let you be. Hopefully the rest of your birthday isn't too annoying." You let out a chuckle. "But, while I'm here, this is for you."

You take out a box from your pocket. Wednesday hadn't noticed it despite it sticking halfway out of the pocket. She takes it cautiously before revealing a dagger within the confines of the box. Unsheathing it, Wednesday inspects the blade.

It was a spear point dagger, perfect for stabbing. The blade itself was sharp, taking no effort to draw blood from her thumb when she tested it.

"An excellent blade. A fine addition to my collection." You preen at the rare praise. "Tell anyone and I will stab you with it."

You raise your hands in surrender. "No one will know. There's enough of my blood on that anyway."

Wednesday tilts her head ever so slightly in question. "Elaborate."

"I made that blade myself. Folded bone steel quenched in my own blood," you explain. "It took me almost a year. I was making it for fun, but I figured it would be a decent gift for you, so... Yeah."

It was a personal project. It was a different way to give a part of yourself away, but you were glad that it was to Wednesday. The goth seemed to realize this and sheathed the blade carefully.

"... Thank you."

"Don't mention it. I'll see you around."

With a salute, you leave with your heart pounding. It feels like you just got that much closer to your crush.

-----+++++-----

"Guys! Get out! It's here!"

Tyler screams from the lower floor of the Gates' Mansion as the monster attacks him. Enid and Wednesday try to escape, only to be intercepted by the beast.

"The dumbwaiter! Go!"

The two scurry into the small space and shut the door, creating a barrier between them and the monster.

"What do we do, Wednesday?" Enid was scared out of her wits. "How are we gonna get outta here?" Her whines would've annoyed the goth if they weren't in such a hazardous situation.

Wednesday looks all around until her eyes land on her wrist. At the bracelet that held your favor. She takes it off just as the creature slashes at the door and holds it tight, putting all her energy into it.

The sound of whirling flames draws the attention of the beast as you appear behind it, confused.

"Wednesday? Where ar- HOLY SHIT!" Immediately you fall into a defensive stance. "Wednesday!? Are you okay!?"

"Distract it while Enid and I escape!"

"How am I supposed to- WHOA!" You barely dodge a strike from the monster. With a growl, you let your power flow through you. Claws and fangs elongate as your vulpine features begin to appear. You crouch low as your twin tails furl out behind you.

"I guess we're dancing."

While the beast was large and strong, you were deft and agile. Each swing of its claws were dodged and met with three strikes of your own. It didn't do too much, but it was enough to keep it distracted. At least until the screams of the girls drew both of your attention as the dumbwaiter barrels down its chute.

"Wednesday! Enid!"

The monster immediately moves towards the basement where the girls no doubt would've landed. You chase after it, managing to tackle it hard enough down the basement stairs. A quick glance saw Enid trying to escape and Wednesday looking at the shelves.

"What are you doing!?" You hear Enid yell.

"These are the body parts from the monster's victims."

You use all of your weight to slam into the creature before it gets to Wednesday.

"Get outta here!" You yell before getting smacked into the wall. Your distraction served as an opportunity for the monster.

A groan escapes your lips as the monster stalks towards the escaping girls. With pain shooting through your whole body, you launch yourself at the monster, sinking your claws into its back. A loud roar echoes throughout the basement as the beast reaches back, clawing at you then throwing you across the room before running away.

The only thing keeping you conscious was adrenaline and concern for your friends. That changed when you saw taillights leaving as soon as you managed to crawl out of the house. You let out a ragged scoff.

"They left me..."

Your body starts to shift fully into your fox form, knowing you would heal quicker that way. You were too weak to head back to Nevermore, but you could at least find a burrow to recover at. But the feeling of betrayal will sting for longer.

"She left me..."

-Tag List: @screechcat

[9toji]

‧₊˚✩彡 1:54 AM — NAGI SEISHIRO

his eyes open, trying to regain proper vision by blinking. tears covered the base of his eyes, nagi scrambled to sit up properly, hands were sliding and slipping against the blankets that covered his torso. eyes scanning his side with an almost agitated and scared expression.

“it's just a dream.” realizing that the vision he saw was merely a figment of his dreams, nagi wipes the tears off his face with the collar of his white sweatshirt. he should've known.. it scared him to death, seeing you leave him without even saying goodbye. how haunting it was to nagi seishiro, who even though said that everything was bothersome can not take losing your presence.

with a small tug, he wakes you. “i'm sorry.. i had a nightmare, can i.. cuddle you again?” seishiro asks softly, watching your sleepy expression contort with confusion. and he takes his chances when you extend one heavy arm, putting himself beneath it to hug you tight. his eyes scan your face while slim fingers pinched your cheek, another check to see if he wasn't dreaming.

he sighs, glad that you're still there beside him whist sleeping like a log.

nagi stares at you for a while, before his eyes feel heavy. definitely feeling a lot safer as he pushes himself closer to your chest, “that dream was a bother.. you're not going to leave me, i know it. i trust you after all.. isn't that right, princess?” he whispers, sliding two fingers up and down your puffy cheeks. “you'll be here for me, promised me that too.” seishiro adds with a slight crack to his voice, unsure of the future you two hold.

worries of your partner wash away when you lean in to his warmth, his snowy hair brushing against the top of your head, giving it a small kiss before returning back to resting his head on top of yours as he soon fell asleep, the moon illuminating both your figures. nagi seishiro felt safer in this moment of slumber, much more better than the naps he had to endure alone in blue lock, that little prison as he called it.

the duvet, mattress, blankets were much softer and comforting. and you were the main source of warmth that he could not find anywhere and in anyone else, it is only in you where he is truly at peace, and his dreams consists of fantasies about the two of you setting off on adventures in his rpg games, or in arcades, playing 80s and 90s games that were his guilty pleasure.

he loved those dreams, and nagi wanted to make sure to keep having them by staying by your side, for years to come.

[possibilistfanfiction]

I absolutely adore the chef/sommelier au and always find so much comfort in your writing. i have a few questions/prompts if you’re interested in any of these:

1) how did they meet? were they part of the same circles and crushing from afar until they finally had the chance to work together? or did they have a more classic meet cute?

2)Ava mentions that she knows Beatrice prefers to eat in the kitchen rather than the restaurant and I would be curious about any backstory behind how Ava came to learn this.

3) one of those foodie travel adventures where they eat their way through X city or cities

ok so this is no1 but has hints of the other two (which i love & will maybe write later!)

also i guess... this turned into platonic bea & lilith are in love. who knows lol

//

you've known beatrice for so long now, you really should've seen this coming.

for as annoying as she is, she's remarkably talented — something that had made you frustrated with her, and yourself, for years during culinary school. beatrice's food is true to who she is: wholly precise and quietly playful, elegant and creative, and really, really warm. thoughtful. surprisingly fun. you've always been able to tell: your technical skills are the best in the world, better than hers or anyone else you've ever met, and your palette is exquisite; you run a kitchen with quiet authority, and each dish comes out on time, exactly as it's supposed to. you are very good at your job. but beatrice makes food — elevated chinese and european fusion dishes, whatever she's most interested in at the moment — that makes you want to cry in its capacity to comfort. not that you would ever admit it, but you have stepped away to the bathroom on a handful of occasions to do just that.

she's more your sister than anything else — your little sister, you make sure to remind her — and so when chef superion had essentially ordered — encouragingly — beatrice into opening her own restaurant after five years of being chef de cuisine and, really, being the quiet driving force behind those three michelin stars, it hadn't even been a question to you that you would go with her. that you would help with the menu and everyday operations; the design and hours of operation; the sustainable sourcing for all of your dishes that she's always been so invested in. that part, while exhausting, had been fairly easy: mary and shannon, who own an urban farm, had been thrilled to partner, and you came up with a collaborative menu together. you were able to secure local seafood from a few suppliers, local ethical meat from your favorite butcher. camila, admittedly your favorite chef from superion's, young and absolutely kind, had agreed to come on and do pastry. you and beatrice had hired yasmine as your sous, trustworthy and smart.

you've been elbow-deep in planning — food, interior, front of house, all of it — for months. you're pretty sure beatrice works, like, twenty hours a day, and doesn't do anything but that. she eats takeout quickly in the kitchen, standing over a trashcan. every friday you barge into her condo and force her to eat greasy pizza and watch reality tv and share a joint. a year or so ago she had asked you to buzz her hair for her and you still do now, weekly, because she's neat and confident and loves efficiency and, according to many, many women unfortunately saying this to you directly whenever you drag her out for drinks, it's hot. she takes you to doctor's appointments and picks up your dry cleaning; she's the only person you let sharpen your knives for you, and the only person you'll share a bed with overnight if you're too drunk or stoned or tired to go home. she never says anything, never minds, just grumbles when her alarm goes off and grumbles sleepily in chinese while she makes herself an espresso.

and so, really, it's your fault. you should've known. you're not sure how you should've known, but you definitely should have.

'so,' you say, lowering yourself into the chair across from her immaculately neat desk in her office in the back, 'i think i found us a sommelier.'

your drinks menu is one of the last things you have to finalize, and beatrice has been so fucking picky about who to bring on to do so. cocktails hadn't been that hard; hans is competent and creative. but the wine pairings have been a pain in your ass: one sommelier was too old to have fresh, exciting ideas; one was a cis white man so beatrice automatically vetoed that, which, honestly, you didn't hate and definitely should've seen coming.

'and who is it?'

'ava silva,' you say, flick open your tablet to his profile: ava is young and renowned already, and has experience with local, natural wines and restaurants all over the world, especially europe, brazil, and east asia. she is, you realize later with a heartfelt deep annoyance, beautiful.

'ava silva,' beatrice repeats. she reads through ava's profile, her accomplishments and accolades and references. 'they worked with taian table.' beatrice hums. 'i've heard of them.'

'yeah.' you force yourself not to roll your eyes at her reluctance.

'ava is available to meet for a consult?'

'tomorrow, if you want. i can take care of the oyster tasting if that helps.'

she laughs, and you let yourself crack a smile. 'i don't even want to be a part of your oyster tasting, lilith.'

'just because i have fun —'

'sleeping with our supplier better not backfire on us, that's all i have to say.'

and maybe you should've realized right then, when beatrice's eyes lingered on ava's professional headshot on her website, on her impressive accolades. 'i am a consummate professional,' you tell beatrice.

she shakes her head, fondly, and leans back in her chair, runs a hand over her hair. 'fine,' she says, 'i'll take the meeting with ava.'

'great,' you say, relieved in the moment. 'what's the worst that can happen?'

/

very soon, unfortunately, you find out: beatrice is fucking insufferable. ava is even more insufferable, flirting with horrible humor and fond, relentless teasing. beatrice is, somehow, blushing and stumbling around like a schoolgirl, despite her attempts at being a serious, focused chef. she burns her hand on a pot, sets a towel on fire, and spills a red wine reduction all over her favorite apron the first time ava is coming to try a few dishes on the menu.

'jesus christ,' you say, maybe a little bit of a prayer, 'what the fuck, chef?'

beatrice groans. 'ava is... pretty.'

she says it reluctantly, like it's terrible to admit. ava is definitely annoying, but even you have eyes. 'yes, we all know after having to watch you fumble around during one meeting that you think ava is pretty.'

'and,' she says, a blush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck, 'he's smart, and funny, and has an amazing palette.'

'well, he better.' you deflate a little; it's disarming to see beatrice this nervous, especially when it has nothing to do with her food being reviewed or rated. 'listen, beatrice,' you say, trying your very hardest to be gentle, just this once, 'this menu is gorgeous. i came up with eighty percent of it —'

'— you did not —'

'— so i can assure you that ava will love it, and that we can pair wines that will be excellent. and don't tell anyone i said this, or i legitimately will kill you, but you're an... impressive person. you're a remarkable chef. ava would be a fool to not see that.'

beatrice lets out a big breath. 'okay.'

'plus, it's kind of fun to see you trip all over yourself because of a crush.'

'i'm going to go change now.'

'yes, because you spilled because of a crush.'

'see you later, lilith.'

'yeah, yeah,' you say. 'i'll make sure to overcook the egg noodles, just for you.'

/

it's your fault, for sure, because you said yes to doing the food at their wedding — to make it worse, excitedly. it's gorgeous and it's a huge pain in your ass because there's, like, every cool chef in the world there, and a ton of Wine People, and beatrice has been traveling with ava filming something, so you've been running the restaurant. but still, beatrice gives you a hug and ava, terribly, kisses your cheek. they're both beautiful, and their backyard is full of edible flowers and herbs and vines with wine grapes. at one point, beatrice snags you by the hand to dance with her, which you protest for posterity and eventually give up on, as you always would have anyway. as you always have.

'thank you,' she says, 'for this. it's the best meal i've ever eaten.'

'i'm certain that's not true.'

she shakes her head; she's tan and has more freckles than you've ever seen on her, stretching across her cheeks — they'd gotten to film in brazil, apparently, where ava is from. but here it is, really: the whole world, right there, and beatrice has chosen to love you. she's chosen to want you as her sister, and you have always chosen her back.

'i'm really glad you're happy.'

'thank you,' she says. 'i am so happy.'

you roll your eyes. 'i know. it's nauseating.'

'lil.'

'after all of this, i want two weeks off when you're back from your honeymoon.'

'done.'

'well, a positive outcome, at the very least.'

she laughs.

'it's my fault, anyway. if i had just found a less beautiful, boring, straight sommelier...'

'i'm going to go dance with my wife now,' she says. 'love you.'

'yeah, yeah.' you squeeze her hand, linger for a moment in how softly she says wife, just because it's gentle and sweet and you don't hate seeing her this happy. 'love you too.'

[runa-falls]

Hello!! I would be so interested to hear your thoughts, what song or music can you see each of the Moon Knight boys waltzing or slow dancing with the reader to at like a masquerade ball or some other fancy gathering? I absolutely love the way you write for the boys, and Miguel, too!!

sorry it took so long! i have two more parts with marc + jake so stay tuned :3 this was so fun to write !! pls read with the music in the background.

steven: the baker's son

main theme: la source, op. 23

fate had drawn the two soft souls together.

steven is not of high social standing, but he's utterly in love with you. he's a baker's son, delivering a fresh loaf to your estate every other day. you always insist on receiving the bread personally, if only for a few moments with him.

your close friendship quickly turns into quiet meets, flushed gazes and secret kisses, a shy budding romance hidden from the world. you both know your father would never approve, but you're too much in love to care. he longs for you, and you, him.

but then life gets in the way.

waltz 1: waltz in a flat major, op. 39 no. 15

steven is never invited to balls, but when your family hosts one you tell him to sneak into the estate and sit at the fountain to wait for you.

you slip out at the height of the ball when your parents are too distracted to notice your absence, and seek him out. you smile. he looks so dapper in his ill fitting suit, one that probably belongs to his father.

he gives you a shy bow before offering his hand, "may i have the honor to share a dance with you, darling?"

you blush, gently placing your hand in his, "you may."

the two of you waltz to the muffled music that plays from within the ballroom. you look up at him and then at the world around you, draped with the soft golden glow of the candles scattered around the garden.

as the song meets its final beat, his eyes lock with yours, milk chocolate pulling you closer into his space. a hand cradles your jaw as he leans in and your eyes flutter shut, anticipating his lips meeting yours.

---

a week after the ball, your father announces that you and your sister will be sent off to live with your aunt in bigger city to find a wealthy husband. you cry to steven, telling him that you will never forget him.

he urges you to run away with him, to build a new life away from the pressures of society, but you refuse, telling him you can't leave your little sister to live in the city on her own.

waltz 2: musetta's waltz

you meet each other 5 years later at a masquerade.

it's an exclusive ball, only the most elite members were invited.

you're glad you have a mask on, otherwise everyone would see the scowl on your face. ever since you left your hometown, you've hated balls. you hate the empty conversations, the restrictive corsets, and the men who would ask for a dance. but most of all, you hate that he's not here with you.

and it's all your fault.

you should've ran away with him when you had the chance. he's probably married now, and with children. he probably doesn't waste a single thought about you.

a throat is cleared behind you and it shocks you out of your thoughts.

you turn and see a man with a delicate white mask, hands fiddling nervously together as you appraise him. he bows in his perfectly tailored suit and you curtsy, ballgown fluffed around you.

he smoothly offers his gloved hand, "may i have the honor--"

"okay, if we must."

his body stiffens when you interrupt him, but he doesn't seem irritated, just taken aback.

throughout the waltz, you don't talk to him, adamant to finish this dance as soon as possible. but you'll admit he's a good dancer. his hands delicately hold you as you fluidly move along the ballroom floor. his touch never strays from your waist as he starts pulling you closer.

you let him. there's something about his touch feels familiar.

"are you well, darling?"

darling

you look up and meet his eyes. those familiar eyes. his lips quirk up into a smile as he watches your eyes widen in disbelief.

"steven?" your hands come up to hold his face as your eyes scan him, to make sure he's real. you slowly take his mask off to reveal his gentle face.

my steven.

your eyes sting with happy tears, "my love."

he takes your mask off, smiling as he sees your full face for the first time in years, "i'm here now." he wraps his arms around you, squeezing you tight as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

"h-how...?"

"i left the village and built a new life...for you." he wipes your tears from your face, "tell me it's not too late, that you haven't found another."

"never."

[acsisz]

Real DecaP DARK Fanfic.

Warning: contains quite a bit of violence, blood, some swearing.

This isn't DecaP fluff fanfic (there's a bit at the end tho), I wrote this while imagining a DARK DecaP game. Harvard is an actual merciless bastard, and his teammates don't have a good time.

Writing this caused me some emotional pain, so be prepared.

(Also I'm so tired, this is like 5,500 words long... I didn't beta read it, no energy left 😅 I'm sorry if there're any wording mistakes)

Plot: The team experiences Harvard's darkness firsthand.

*Huff puff*

Carl was running alone in an abandoned building.

'Where is everyone?' Carl thought as he went around a corner.

*BANG*

'What was that?!' Carl heard a loud sound coming not far from where he is.

'Are the others in trouble?!' He tried to once again contact his teammates through his special police assigned phone, but it still didn't work.

'Damn it... I guess there's no other choice...' Carl began to turn the other way and started running to the source of the loud sound he had heard.

'Everyone... please be okay...!'

*bang*

"Hm? That was..." Zhang muttered to himself as he checked his laptop for any contacts from his teammates.

"It was quite loud, but still far off from where we are," said his partner, Manimani.

Her tone of voice signaled worry, yet still radiates a strong calmness.

"Any news from the others?" Manimani asked her partner.

"No, not yet..." Zhang shaked his head and began typing on his laptop.

"We've been separated from them for quite some time now... Did Mikey contact you?" asked Manimani again.

"Nope... This is just speculation on my part, but I think this old building is jamming our signals," Zhang begins to explain.

"Mikey just went in to search for Carl and Harvard, so maybe he hasn't had any new info to tell us," he continued.

"...but it's weird that Carl or Harvard hasn't contacted us at all, is what you're saying right?" Manimani said.

"Exactly," said Zhang as he finally tears his sight away from his laptop screen to face Manimani.

"Especially Carl," Manimani emphasized.

"Especially Carl... he's the biggest worrywart of this team," Zhang agreed.

"So, what should we do know? Me going in after them won't solve any problem," Manimani puts her hands on her hips, slightly annoyed.

"Right..." Zhang begins to think.

"Honestly we were so lucky to be regrouped with Mikey, only for him to immediately went off in search of those two," Manimani briefly remembers when they managed to accidentally find Mikey in this labyrinth of a building.

"Mikey!" Manimani shouted a bit to get her teammate's attention.

Mikey was running, about to turn around a corner when he heard Manimani's voice calling him.

"Goodness! What a coincidence! Good to see you two!" Mikey, noticing Manimani and Zhang, began to ran over to them whilst shouting a bit.

"A coincidence of great effort, this place is like a maze!" Zhang said, "Why didn't you contact us?"

"Oh! Yes, contact! Sorry, I forgot!" Mikey admitted, an embarrassed smile began to form on his face.

Zhang and Manimani sighed at the revelation, 'Knew it,' they both thought at the same time.

"Putting that aside for a moment, did you find anything? Where are our leader and his partner?" Manimani asked.

"Very weird. I found nothing, not a single person. And no Harvard or Carl either," Mikey said, perplexed.

"Wait, not a single person? But you came from the other way. We also didn't find anyone, so thinking logically, you should've had more chance in encountering those members!" the news shook Manimani.

"Yes, very weird. This is hideout of a big crime organization, correct?"

"Right, but we also didn't find a single person..." Manimani looked to Zhang for correction, and he only nods.

"Could it be that they already fleed?" Zhang raised a possibility.

"No way, Harvard clearly told us they'd be here. He was sure of it," And Harvard was rarely wrong when he's that sure, Manimani added in her mind.

"Damn it, this is turning into a mess. I thought we'd be able to instantly raise our achievements if we're able to caught a big crime organization by ourselves," Zhang sighed.

"I told you so," Manimani said perturbed.

'What a mess... This is what happens when you don't listen to Carl and me, we're like the only functioning brains with common sense in this team...!' Manimani swallowed her words, making the situation worse is the last thing she wants to do right now. Scolding Zhang can come after they're all together and safe.

"How about we search for leader and Carl together?" Mikey asked, sensing the disturbance in the air.

"Can't do, I wanna try contacting headquarters," Zhang said, rejecting Mikey's offer.

"I see, what about you Manimani?" Mikey turns his focus to Manimani.

"I want to, but Zhang's horrible at fights. Can't risk him getting jumped by the enemies while he's working on contacting headquarters," Manimani shook her head, a bit disappointed she couldn't go searching for her teammates.

"That's okay I understand, Zhang's the worse at fights in our team. I would also be worried if I were to left him alone in the middle of enemy territory," Mikey agrees.

Zhang didn't mind being spoken off like a deadweight at fights, he's good at other things after all. And he's about to demonstrate that other things right now as he opens his laptop and begins working.

"Alright, then see you guys later!" Mikey said as he began to run off to find Harvard and Carl.

"Ah, don't forget to contact us with updates!" Manimani shouted at Mikey's running figure that's getting farther and father away from them in just a few seconds.

She could see him making an 'OK' sign with his hand, and lets him leave, hoping he wouldn't forget again.

"Maybe we shouldn't have let him leave after all..." Manimani said a bit dejected.

"Don't say stupid things like that, if that happens then we three'll be sitting ducks here when there might be something happening to our two missing teammates," Zhang debated, he's already working on his laptop again.

"Right, Mikey's strong anyway, he'd be able to handle himself just fine. You say some pretty good stuff sometimes too, huh?"

"Yep, glad you understand," Zhang answer as he types on his laptop.

"How's the progress with contacting the headquarters?" asked Manimani.

"No luck, we're sitting ducks," Zhang answered, his typing stopped.

"Figures," Manimani sighed, "Still, what was that noise anyway?" she asked.

"Don't know, but it seems to be coming from the way Mikey ran off to, so he may be close to it. We're definitely far off though," Zhang said.

"Should we go there?" suggested Manimani.

Zhang closed his laptop with a clicked, "Sure, it's not like we're making progress here," and stood up.

*Huff puff*

Carl could hear himself breathing.

The building he's in is old and so very quiet.

He could only hear his footsteps and rapid breathing.

'That source of that noise should be close... Damn it!'

Carl thought about how it all came to this, and almost swore to himself to give Harvard a good beating when he sees him next.

'Harvard, you stupid...!'

He remembers when Harvard came to them with surefire proofs on a crime organization and a plan to catch them all by themselves.

He and Manimani tried to convince him otherwise and to at least tell their higher-ups, but Harvard wouldn't listen.

Not only that, he managed to gain Zhang's support by luring him in with talks of achievements and promotions or whatnot.

With Mikey not really supporting one or the other, they were at a tie.

But Harvard was reckless enough to tell them that he would even go by himself, so there's no use stopping him.

Carl has been friends with Harvard for at least 3 years and he had an ability to understand other people's hearts and, through them, their thoughts and personalities.

He understands his friend and partner's personality very well.

So he knew he couldn't stop him, but, "Okay, we'll come with," Manimani gasped, shocked at his decision.

"But, let me contact our instructors first. At the very least, they should know if we're about to attempt this. Things may go south after all, we may need their help," Manimani's relieved sigh reached his ears.

Harvard gave him a look, indicating 'not bad', then smirked and shook his head, "If they know, they would first stop us from going, then issue a formal request to their higher-ups to be allowed to catch them. It could take DAYS. There could be an information leak, and the entire organization could be gone from that building by the time that venerable permission comes out."

Carl couldn't say anything, especially when he thought about what's going on inside the force currently.

There were talks about traitors inside Broadstone Police Force.

"We're going, NOW," was what Harvard said last before he left the room.

Carl wasn't about to let that kill them all though, so he whipped up his phone and was about to call one of their instructors, Misae or Granger.

But just then, a message came in. From Harvard. Carl pales and closed his phone, he then followed the others and left the room, chasing after Harvard.

*BANG*

'It's that noise again, I'm getting close!' Carl thought as he fasten his pace.

*BANG BANG BANG*

'It's increasing?! What are they from? Gunshots? It's so loud, like metal...'

*SCREAM*

'What in the-?! I need to hurry up, someone's life could be in danger!'

Carl slowed his pace as he gets closer to the source of the loud metal noises and screams.

He very carefully peeked inside the room where the noises originated from.

'What is... ugh-!' Carl held his breath.

*BANG BANG BANG*

"Agh! Spare me!" pleaded a bloody man covered his head with his hands.

"Sure, once you tell me what I want to know!" a voice resembling his partner's, Harvard's, told him.

"I already told you, I don't know anything- UGH!" the man's words were cut short by a metal pipe hitting his side.

*BANG*

"Harvard...?" Carl stood shocked, unable to let a single word out.

"I'll give you another chance!"

"I don't know, please-"

*BANG*

Carl reflexively turned his face away and closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he took a glance at the room they were in.

There was a lot of red splattered on the floor and the wall, and...people. Unmoving people. Dead people.

Carl felt nauseous.

"C'mon, spill it!" Harvard demanded.

No, if this goes on...!

"Harvard stop...!" Carl heard himself scream.

Harvard seemed to hear him, his hand holding the steel pipe froze and he turned around to face him.

"...Carl," was all that Harvard said in this situation. Carl could hear the annoyance in his tone of voice.

"What were you doing?!" Carl asked, terrified.

"I was just beating information out of our suspect here," answered Harvard, his hand still holding the steel pipe.

"Oh goodness..." Carl could feel himself dizzier by the second, his partner was showing absolutely no signs of guilt.

"Look at all these people Harvard! Y-you... What did you do to them?! They couldn't be...dead?" Carl asked in disbelief.

"Don't worry, I made sure they're still alive," Harvard said, his patience getting thinner.

"That's not the problem you-"

"It was self-defense. They attacked me first with steel pipes, I just returned the favor," his voice exasperated.

Carl felt that Harvard is saying, 'Are you done yet?' with his body language.

"Harvard, j-just put down that steel pipe first," Carl begged.

Harvard sneered, "Or what? You'll beat me up?"

There was no way Carl could win against Harvard, his fighting prowess is second only to Mikey in their team, while Carl is only as strong as Manimani.

Beating Harvard in a hand-to-hand combat is like asking for broken bones and pain.

Yet, he can't use any of his official police assigned weapons, like his gun, he needs permission from their higher-ups.

And he for sure didn't even tell their direct higher-ups, their instructors, that they would even be here, in this mess.

'Harvard's mess...' thought Carl.

Carl stayed quiet, unable to answer Harvard's provocation.

"Just like I thought," sighed Harvard as he went back to terrorize the bloody man that couldn't even stand up anymore.

"Now, tell me what you know, or I'll bust your head open."

"I-I don't know, I don't know...-"

*BANG*

"UGH!!" the man let out a muffled scream and coughed out some blood.

"HARVARD STOP!!" before Carl realized, he was running to stop his partner.

Carl tackled him from behind.

Harvard's footing wobbled, but he easily pushed Carl away.

Carl landed on his back, "Guh...!"

"Carl, I'm warning you, don't get in my way," Harvard's voice was serious and laced with anger.

"You can't do this! This isn't right!" said Carl as he attemped to get up.

"And who decides on that?" Harvard sneered.

"The law does!" Carl yelled.

"Well, the law is wrong."

Harvard's eyes looked down on him, and Carl trembled from the fear and pressure.

Harvard's eyes were merciless, his eyes now were like the eyes of criminals they've caught together before.

Dark, cold, merciless, cruel...

Carl couldn't bear to look at them.

Harvard turned away from Carl and looked back at the man lying down in his own blood.

"Tell me, what do you know about the Clown case from 10 years ago?"

The man didn't answer and only laid still while covering his head with his hand pitifully.

"Answer me!!" Harvard screamed as he swung the metal pipe once more.

"HARVARD NO!!"

Carl ran over and gripped his partner's hand that's holding the steel pipe tightly, trying to get him to let it go.

"Harvard, please don't do this!" Carl cried.

"Carl, LET. ME. GO!" Harvard's strength outpowered Carl and he swung down the pipe to hit Carl's upper arm.

"Aagh!!" Carl wailed as he fell down.

Harvard sighed annoyingly as he steadied himself, he lifted his hand again to hit the man.

"Harvard no...!" Carl clenched Harvard's leg, pleading for him to stop this madness.

Harvard kicked him back and swung down his metal pipe on the man again.

*BANG*

"Harvard no! This is wrong! Please stop it already!!" Carl could feel tears streaming down his face.

"Is this your justice?! Harvard!!" Carl cried at the top of his lungs.

"That's right, this IS my justice," Harvard coldly answered.

Carl's heart fell.

Why am I so weak? Carl hated himself at this moment.

If only the others were here, any one of them could do a much better job at stopping Harvard than he could...

"Harvard STOP!!!" Carl forced himself to get up, the pain in his upper arm tearing through him mercilessly, but he hold it back.

Carl tackled Harvard from behind again, and he felt a sharp pain stabbing his stomach.

Harvard had elbowed his stomach.

Carl could taste blood in his mouth, but he held his ground.

"Har..vard!!" Carl swung his fist to Harvard's face, but Harvard caught it.

"Stand. Back. Carl."

Harvard kicked his stomach and threw him back.

The impact from hitting the ground made Carl gagged on his blood.

Carl felt pitiful.

If only anyone from his team were here, they could surely stop Harvard.

Carl couldn't, Carl never could. He was too weak, too fragile, too much of a pampered crybaby to do anything.

He was scared, terrified. He couldn't even properly look at his friend without trembling so much.

He wants to go home to his family. He wants to sleep in his soft and large bed, and have his parents and elder siblings tell him that everything will be okay.

He hated this. Why did he even go to Police College for? He should've stayed and continued his family's business. What dreams? Being a hero? Laughable.

"Uhh...uwaaaa..." Carl cried.

He couldn't even lift his arms anymore, one of them hurt too badly and he just has no more energy left to lift the other anymore.

'It hurts...' Carl's whole body was screaming in pain, he was coughing up blood, but most of all, his heart hurt.

His friend and partner is doing something so horrible, yet he couldn't even stop him.

Since he's 2 years older, he always feels like should show Harvard the way, that he should guide him on the right path.

But he failed, miserably.

He is a failure.

*Sniff sniff*

Unbeknownst to Carl, Harvard was silently watching him, his expression contorting slightly.

Harvard suppressed the feelings in his heart, and began to interrogate the man again.

"I'll ask again, what do you know about the Clown case from 10 years ago?"

The man curled up and stayed silent.

"I know you know something. I've obtained information that before you founded this criminal organization 8 years ago, you were in contact with Clown. My source even told me that you were sending hit list to them."

The man kept silent.

"Tell me, 10 years ago, were you the one that gave the instruction to kill a woman surnamed Marks?" his voice intensified.

"..." silence.

"Hahaha... is that how you wanna play? Fine."

*BANG BANG BANG*

"You know, maybe you'd be interested to know who's the source of all my information on you," Harvard gave a forced smile.

"Do you have any idea of an old woman and her daughter who's surnamed 'Hart'?"

"...!" the man responded slightly.

Harvard smirked, "The old lady has trouble with her left leg and walks with a cane, while the daughter has burn marks on her right hand. Do you suppose know who they are?"

'...You-" the man's teeth clenched.

"Willing to talk now?"

"What did you do to them?" the man face Harvard with a new fiery determination.

Harvard let out a geniune laugh, "Ahaha, nothing. Yet."

The man lunged at Harvard as if his wounds aren't bothering him.

"Heh!" Harvard easily evaded him, "If you tell me everything you know and did with Clown, nothing would happen to them."

"You...monster!" the man screamed as he lunged forward to attack Harvard.

Harvard just clicked his tongue and kicked him back, "Monster? If I'm a monster, then what the fuck are you huh?"

"You killed people, you terrorized them, you were so evil that you wife and kid left you AND told all of your wrongdoings to the police to get you in jail. You're a fucking PIG in a human society."

"SHUT UP!!" the man yelled and got up again.

"You're the shit of society, the least you could do is own up for being a shit and tell me everything I want to know from you."

The man attempted to tackle Harvard, but Harvard dodged and hit him hard with his metal pipe.

*BANG*

"Feel like talking now?"

*Cough cough* the man coughs up a lot of blood.

"Harvard...stop...he's gonna die...sniff," Carl tried to force himself to stand up again.

He's a failure, sure, but if he and the man were gonna die in his partner's hands, the least he could do is to reduce that kill count from 2 to 1.

He's used to cleaning up after Harvard anyway, one more time wouldn't hurt.

"Stand down Carl. What am I gonna tell your prestigious family if you get hurt any more than this?" Harvard sighed.

Carl clenched his teeth and forced himself to get up again, and, oddly enough, he couldn't quite feel the pain anymore. Is that good or bad? He was supposed to be knowledgeable about this, but he couldn't quite remember. He feels dizzy.

"ZHANG, MANIMANI, MIKEY, HELP!!!" Carl screamed loudly.

Carl couldn't do it alone, so he called for help. After all, that's what teammates are for.

*Huff puff*

"This place is a labyrinth!" Manimani said between breaths.

"Tell me about it," Zhang unenthusiastically replied.

"At least we are together!" Mikey added.

"I'm glad we found you! But why were you still so close to our location?" Manimani asked.

"I got lost! This place is a labyrinth!" Mikey said a bit too enthusiastically.

"Wow," Zhang replied.

*BANG BANG BANG*

"We're already so much closer to the source of those loud noises, just a bit more!" Manimani said.

"I hope Harvard and Carl are already there, I don't think I could manage to run around again to search for them," Zhang said, out of breath.

"Don't worry, I could still go for another run!" Mikey said with a reassuring smile.

"Gee, good for you," said Zhang.

*BANG*

"Another loud noise! It's so close now!" said Manimani.

"C-Can we take a short break?" Zhang pleaded.

"Not now! We're so close..." rejected Manimani.

"B-But I'm so tired...can't go on running...!"

"That's why we always told you to train with us! But you always refused!"

Manimani and Zhang were about to start a scuffle.

"ZHANG, MANIMANI, MIKEY, HELP!!!"

"Huh, that was...!" Manimani was suprised for a second, but immediately began to search for the source of the voice.

"Carl...?" Zhang added, surprised and out of breath.

"Here! Let's go!" Mikey acted first, the two then followed behind him.

"Carl!!" Mikey called back.

Carl could feel his heart literally jumped with joy and relieve hearing that voice.

Mikey was the strongest in their team, if anyone could stop Harvard, it's him!

Carl sniffled for one last time before steadying himself, 'That's right, this isn't time for crying. We need to stop Harvard. We need to help him!'

"Mikey! We're here!" Carl called out to Mikey again.

Harvard's expression showed his displease, 'More annoyances...'

"CARL!" Mikey's loud voice was even louder as he got closer.

And he finally managed to find them.

Carl almost cried again out of joy when he saw that Zhang and Manimani were also with him.

"Carl- What in the?!" Manimani spoke first, she scanned the room and immediately formed a hypothesis.

"What the..." Zhang was second, he turned paler as his gaze traced the people lying on the ground in blood.

"Oh goodness..." Mikey was the last as he looked between Harvard and Carl in confusion and horror.

"Carl, what is happening?!" Manimani asked agitated.

"Speak later! Mikey, you need to restrain Harvard!" Carl's orders were straight and sure without a hint of doubt.

That, coupled with Harvard's annoyed expression and his steel pipe, were enough to mobilize the three people who just arrived.

"I don't really get what's happening, but I need you to drop that steel pipe leader!" Manimani demanded.

Harvard sighed, and finally dropped the steel pipe.

"Mikey, go get that man lying beside Harvard!" Carl instructed.

Mikey carefully went over to Harvard's side.

As he bended over to grab the man, Harvard's kick swerved upward aiming right on Mikey's stomach.

Fortunately, Mikey managed to dodge at the last second due to his natural fast reaction and body control.

"Harvard...?" Mikey got into his fighting pose as Harvard picks his steel pipe up again.

"Manimani, Zhang! Help Mikey restrain Harvard. Subdue him if necessary," Carl quietly said.

Manimani and Zhang gave a short nod as they ran over to Harvard.

Harvard was now surrounded by his 3 teammates.

"I don't know what's going on, but I don't want any trouble," Zhang said to Harvard.

"Harvard, drop that steel pipe. I'm warning you," said Manimani.

"..." Mikey stayed quiet, his fighting pose maintained.

...

...

...

After some very long seconds, Harvard finally spoke up, "Try me."

Mikey went first, his fist aiming at Harvard's stomach.

Harvard dodged him as his steel pipe swerved to hit Zhang who's coming from behind him.

"Uugh!" Zhang grunted in pain as the steel pipe hit his side.

"Harvard!" Manimani yelled as she tried to kick Harvard.

Harvard dodged again and was about to hit Manimani's side with his steel pipe as Mikey suddenly came from behind Harvard and restrained him.

With his arms locking Harvard's torso, Mikey pulled him back.

Due to Mikey's height, Harvard was currently lifted a few centimeters off the ground.

Manimani rushed over and quickly tore the steel pipe from Harvard's hand.

She also put handcuffs on him to make sure he can't attack anymore.

"It's over, mister!" she said to Harvard as she turned back to check on Zhang just as quick as she came.

Mikey, relieved, let his guard down for a second.

Just then, Harvard tried to kick Mikey back.

"Mikey focus!" Carl yelled.

Mikey immediately let go of Harvard, swiftly pulled up behind him and, with one fell swoop, knocked him out.

The unconscious Harvard immediately fell, but is caught by Mikey.

Relieve washed over Carl as his legs buckled and he fell down himself.

Looks like his body finally gave up.

The last thing he could hear was Manimani screaming his name.

...

...

...

Carl woke up in a hospital room.

"You're awake?" a familiar voice called out from beside him, it was his eldest brother, Alfred.

"Elder brother...?" Carl called out sluggishly.

Alfred gave a nod, "Do you know why you're here?"

Carl tried to think back and remembered Harvard's madness.

"H-Harvard, what happened to him?" Carl asked, worried.

"Don't worry, he was just knocked out by your other teammate. No other external injuries were found, it's almost a miracle," his brother answered.

"How is he now? Will he be punished...?"

"Hm, it seems like his higher-ups will give him some sentences for going off alone and badly injuring a key person in the case," his brother calmly told him, "but, all of the other people he injured confessed that they attacked first, all of them just lost."

"So, it's really self-defense?" Carl asked.

"Yes, it seems so. The only injuries he caused because of his own agenda, were to the man who was the key suspect and leader of the crime organization that used the building as their base of operation and to his teammates, including you," explained his brother.

"But," Alfred continued, "none of the injuries he caused were life-threatening, case in point, the worst injury you got is a cracked left upper arm, and to the man, quite a bit of cracked and broken bones."

"He also caused injuries on your, the man's, and one of your teammate's stomachs, but none of it was life-threatening," Alfred concluded his explanation.

"I see..." Carl said as he quietly digest all of the information.

"Keeping a lion and disguising it as a cat is quite dangerous, sometimes it causes this sort of unexpected trouble, but the benefits it gives to the Police organization are also immense. It could even be said that this sort of trouble is just a small price to pay for all of its given benefits," Alfred continued, "The city has never been this peaceful in years."

Carl listened quietly.

"He didn't want to hurt you nor your other teammate, Carl. Trust me, I already had the chance to spoke to him for a lengthy while," Alfred puts a hand on Carl's shoulder.

"As for the man though, he was quite fortunate that your partner still wants to be on the side of the law, not against it."

"He still has use for it, you mean?" Carl asked with a painful smile.

"I don't have an answer to that, maybe you should ask your partner about it. Although, I doubt that, at this point in time, he knows the answer himself," Alfred pats Carl's head and gives him a soft smile, "Be there for him, why don't you? I know you could never leave him alone."

Carl clenched the blanket tightly.

"Harvard Marks could be the one to greatly alter Broadstone. As Oxfords, we will continue to be watching over him," Alfred said as he began to get up.

"...for the Oxford's sake?" Carl asked, almost bitterly.

His brother gave a smile and said, "A lion who obediently follows his owner, is nothing more than a cat. Harm his owner though..."

Somehow, in Carl's eyes, his brother's smile seemed terrifying.

The day is turning dark as Carl said farewell to his 3 teammates, Manimani, Zhang, and Mikey who came to visit him in his hospital room.

Zhang's injury was pretty light and had already healed fully, maybe Harvard really held back against them after all.

Carl too, aside from his cracked upper arm bones, all of his other injuries were healing rapidly.

"What did the doctor say?" Manimani asked.

"He said that I'm actually able to be discharged already, but my family wanted me to at least stay for another 3 days, jut to be on the safe side," Carl explained.

"Gee, your people sound great!" Manimani said with a smile.

"Yeah, we're a tight-knit family," Carl gave a wry laugh.

They had a pretty nice converstation.

The 3 were visiting after all of the 'Harvard caused' paperworks were done, and stayed for about an hour.

It seemed like Harvard just acted like his usual self back in their office, much to their chagrin.

Harvard didn't tell them anything, or even if he was sorry.

He did, however, bought Zhang lunch today, which was a very rare occurence.

Maybe that's his way of apologizing, Mikey suggested.

Zhang, reluctant at first, soon maximized Harvard's offer and bought lunch enough for the other 2 as well, much to Harvard's chagrin.

Carl laughed at their story, and briefly wondered when he'll be able to talk to Harvard again, and how'll their conversation flow after this incident.

After the 3 left, Harvard immediately visited him.

"I thought they'd never left," Harvard said.

"You were waiting for them to leave? Why?" Carl asked.

Harvard awkwardly scratched his hair and said, "Explanation, I thought I owe YOU at least that much."

Harvard seated himself on the chair beside Carl's bed.

"So yeah, about your injuries..." Harvard started.

"My bad."

Carl waited to hear Harvard's continuation, but it seemed that there was no continuaton.

"Wait, that's it?" Carl asked baffled, "Where's the explanation?"

"Yeah, maybe I changed my mind," Harvard gave a joking smile.

"Don't joke around!" admonished Carl, still he's kind of happy to see Harvard back to his usual self.

"...10 years ago, my mom was killed by Clown," Harvard began.

Yes, Carl knew about that.

"The man I was trying to get info out of? 10 years ago, he was the one giving out hit lists to Clown."

"Huh? But, Clown was a serial murderer, not a hitman," Carl said confused.

"On the cover that is, I have information that suggested Clown actually took requests from big corporations," Harvard said serious.

"W-wait, are we alright with talking about this stuff here?" Carl looked to the surveillance camera on the corner of the room.

"Don't worry, I talked with your brother. This hospital belongs to the Oxford right? He'll be able to do something about it, besides, it's not really super-secret anymore. I heard the higher-ups plan to release this info to the masses soon, since Clown's long dead," Harvard calmly explained.

"A-alright, then please, continue."

"During the course of my investigation into Clown, I met the 'Hart' mother and daughter. The mother told me about her divorced husband being a possible carrier linking Clown to the bigshots."

"Though she said 'possible', her demeanor showed that she was sure of it," Harvard said while thinking back on the mother-daughter duo.

"Next, I researched into her husband's past and current whereabouts, and, lo and behold, turns out now he's the leader of a crime organization right here in Broadstone," Harvard eyed Carl meaningfully.

Carl doesn't need further explanation, he know that the divorced husband was the man from the building.

"So, it was all connected to your mother?" Carl asked after some time thinking.

"Everything, is connected to my mom. Everything I do is for her," Harvard answered, his eyes directly locking into Carl's.

"I admit, I lost control," Harvard remembered the state Carl was in, coughing up blood and crying on the ground. Something inside him hurted, "So, my bad."

Carl's right hand slowly reached up to the top of Harvard's hair, and he gently pat him.

"Next time, Harvard, we'll handle it together," Carl spoke gently.

Harvard made an expression like a sad and guilty kitty, making Carl smile a bit, "There, there."

As the youngest of the Oxford siblings, Carl only had older siblings, so he had always wanted to have a younger sibling.

When he met Harvard and, subsequently, as they got closer, Harvard's existence felt like the younger brother he had never had but always wanted to have.

Sometimes Harvard made him angry, other times he made him happy.

Sometimes Carl couldn't take his eyes from Harvard lest he'll make trouble, and sometimes Carl couldn't help but to depend on Harvard.

Being with Harvard was as frustrating as it was fun.

Carl both adore and admire Harvard, but deep in his heart, there was a sense of uncertainty and fear as well.

Carl knew Harvard so well, he fears himself getting too close to the darkness inside Harvard.

A deep, black, unending darkness.

It could consume Carl whole if it so wishes to.

He briefly wondered, what he means to Harvard.

And, if the time comes when the darkness inside Harvard is unleashed, would their bond endure?

------

Author's note: if you read this far, thank you!!

Also, before you ask, "Clown's dead?"

Yes, I headcanon (for this fic) that they're already dead, since at the end of the 'Concept Image Trailer', Harvard said that he wants to meet Clown in DecaSim.

That raises the question: "Why not just meet him in real life?" Unless he CAN'T.

[mosthuggableffxiv]

As Promised: The Ardbert Essay

(specifically the one that didn't come from a wiki)

Full text below

Alright, fine, 8 paragraphs? Honestly, I should've seen this coming. But here's the thing, mod. My original Ardbert submission was just his Wikipedia article copied and pasted. I mean, what more could I say? His story and pain speaks for itself, and for that reason, I thought there was no better propaganda for Ardbert than who he is. But I see that is not enough, and so, I am responding with a fully fleshed out essay of at least 10 paragraphs.I hope it goes to show the lengths to which I, @teridani, believe that Ardbert Hylfyst needs a hug. (Or, depending on your interpretation, "is the most huggable". More on that later.)

When Ardbert first appeared in patch 3.1, it was a mysterious hook meant to drawn us players in. Who is this guy? Why is he speaking with the Ascians? The Warriors of Darkness appear as a threat. When Ardbert first introduces his group, dear mods, I laughed. I was playing through the game with a friend and I found it hilarious that they would be called "warriors of darkness". It's not really any sillier than "warriors of light", but the idea that our enemies, our RIVALS, would just use that name was... so silly. I did like their style, though.

I was a bit frustrated at the return of the Ascians once again. You must remember, dear mods, that I was playing through the entirely of ARR just recently! I was binging the story! And the early Ascian characterization left a lot to be desired. So, here I was, believing Ardbert and his crew were nothing more than Sunday cartoon villians-of-the-week, here to end the world just because. This initial reaction is important for you to understand how big of a switch first impressions were to where I'm at now.

Ardbert himself seemed to relish in this role early-on. He fell into the role of a villain easily, casting aside any doubts towards his goal. He had to. Look what being a hero had brought him and his friends. Still, a degree of hesitation persisted. Ardbert didn't really want to hurt anyone. He never did. He says himself, "We were just adventurers trying to make our way. An odd job here, a favor there—we never aspired to be Warriors of Light." His feelings towards being a hero, I believe, mirror his feelings towards being a villain. Swept up in the tides of fate and tragedy, there were no other paths left for him.

Urianger was the one who brought up the idea of luring out the Warrior of Light, casting the realm into chaos with their death. Of course we have the blessing of hindsight to understand that Urianger never wanted them to come to harm, but Ardbert steeled his resolve and set forth. All he said was that he would make it quick. A mercy in its own right. There is no way Ardbert didn't see a reflection of himself in the WoL, an echo of the same unsundured soul. Through his eyes, eventually any hero who espouses the virtues of *one* element, be it Light or Dark, would doom their world. It seemed a choice between two paths with the same end: doom the Source now, or later. The only difference is how many he could save by doing the former.

Over the course of the finale to his Heavensward arc, Ardbert reveals the missing pieces to the puzzle to us. How he and his friends took their lives just to have a chance at saving their world. As heroes to their world to the very last, they participated in the ultimate sacrifice. I believe I do not need to remind readers of this line. "We did everything right, everything that was asked of us, and still—still it came to this!" How could you not want to give this man a hug? When you think of the pain, regret, grief, and anger he must be feeling? When you see the blind unfairness of the world rest entirely upon him?

In the end, the most heartbreaking thing was when the Warriors of Darkness placed their trust in Minfilia and Ardbert simply asked if she could take them home. They had failed, it was all up to someone else, and at the very end without any other choice... They chose to go back to their home that they destroyed. If only Ardbert could've passed on with his friends, at the very time, perhaps he would have felt some degree of finality. Some measure of redemption. But instead, they were gone along with Minfilia, and he was left for a hundred years alone.

Whether he whispered or screamed, not a soul could hear his voice. His body and mind were barely held together by the time the WoL came to the First. Devoid of hope, he still followed the WoL and watched as piece by piece, sky by sky, night returned to the Norvrandt that he alone beared as his mistake. Ardbert was denied, again and again, any chance of redemption. The only person who could bring hope and joy back to him was the WoL. Of course he was more than willing to sacrifice himself once again at the end of it all—for such a person, he would be willing to do that and more.

I also promised to speak more on his huggability, so I will do so here. First, we look at his height. As an average height Hume, Ardbert comes in around 5ft 9in, or 175cm. I can't attached a picture here, I don't think, but if you find a height comparison tracker and input the 50% height data of each race, I believe it will be of use to you. I used the Male 50% sliders because I'm nonbinary and I get to make the rules here. Au'Ra: Ardbert comes up to shoulder height, a perfect height to rest his head upon your clavicle and wrap his arms around your waist. Roegadyn: Oh baby! How couldn't you hug him? Ardbert comes up to a Roegadyn's tit- I mean chest. There's a reaction image somewhere on the internet about this very thing. I'll leave it up to you to find. Miqo'te: At 5ft 5, Ardbert is slightly taller than the average Miqo'te, and you can rest your head extremely easily on his shoulders. As he wears traditionally Warrior attire, this means nice, high quality leathers and soft furs. Of course, he'd take off his shoulder pauldrons for you. Elezen: The average Elezen can rest their chin perfectly atop his head. I believe that says all I need to say. Viera: A Viera is slightly taller than Ardbert, and but not overtly so. At this height, neither person would have to bend or stretch too far: they would fit like puzzle pieces. Lalafell: For this, not only will I note that a Lalafell could be completely wrapped up in Ardbert's arms, but I ask you to remember one of the other best characters of Shadowbringers. Lamitt wouldn't fall for ANY person who wasn't extremely huggable. Her endorsement says it all. Hrothgar: A Hrothgar and Au'ra are only 2 inches apart, but ther's something more I would like to note. Ardbert has both scruffy hair and facial hair! Like whiskers and fur of his own, he would be a perfect nuzzling companion.

So! For the true hero of the First, for one who gave us the push we needed at the end, who has suffered more than any person should ever have to, I believe we owe it to Ardbert to give him a hug. And also, we owe it to ourselves to hug him, regardless of our height, because as proven time and time again in the story... Ardbert loves you. Thank you for reading.

[iravaid]

Any thoughts on Beckett VTM? [:

Cuthbert Beckett Vampirethemasquerade... I can't say i have many thoughts, i haven't read the books etc but I have a peripheral understanding of what goes on, and he's a fun character!

Loved him in the game, found it very fun to find out he Does So Much More in the books ie. fucking nasty, being an ethically challenged historian, and having horny beef with THE ANGEL OF CAINE. And he's so snarky, his line '... Sebastian, was it?' made me laugh, and it was fun to have him as a source of Kindred lore ingame as the dialogue he presents it with also gives Beckett a lot of character, instead of solely being the info-dump exposition NPC. He's probably had to deal with So Much Shit from high ranking kindred in different domains, it's like a reward when he gets to be a bitch towards them <3

Also, augh, I LOVE his design! It's so cool! Luminant orange eyes with pricked pupils shining from behind a pair of sunglasses? Long flowing hair? CLAWS? Can turn into a wolf? Serving biblically accurate vampiric cunt

Him being a general menace was also v fun in the game, because he's there for the 'odd goings on' in LA, and then later for the mystery surrounding the sarcophagus; he won't waste time with pleasantries/bootlicking the Domain's Prince/Regent/Baron/Bishop because him as an Autarkis really doesn't care. He's here for the potential historical artefact and the chance to find further insight into the origins of Kindred, and it's not in his character to entertain some Kindred two-hundred years his junior trying to throw around weight they don't have.

Reckon he has a huge pain tolerance + general endurance, apparently he's run the length of a football stadium in sunlight and I'd believe that. That coupled with his Gangrel feral marks makes for this really interesting contrast between his appearance + physical capabilities and his academic pursuits and passions, usually with this kind of character they don't tend to be a full indiana jones-type; he pulls it off v well! Wonder if this also has an in-universe basis as well, as other Kindred may excpect Beckett to be of the more 'academic' or esteemed clans that'd pursue what he does - I know some thought him Malkavian because of his adoptive sire and general mannerisms but hey, who knows, lmao

I can see him plummeting into the Depths of obsession when it comes to things like Kindred history and artefacts etc., there's a cloying pull to both finding out that which has been forgotten or lost (and perhaps should've stayed that way), as well as getting the chance to say He was the one who discovered it. That can come at the cost of friendships, his health, things like that, though. Beckett does have a fair bit of clout and/or infamy in some Kindred circles thanks to his exploits, what with the line 'my reputation, for once, doesn't precede me.' He's used to being known, used to being as much spectacle as his quests themselves.

As a last general thought, I can see Beckett being quite vain in his own way - maintaining hair like his, aesthetics like his, makes it feel that he does put thought and time into how he comes across, both as a personal reason and tactical in order to best do his job and keep up appearances as THE Beckett, Noddist and Archaeologist

So yeah! Thank you for the ask, had fun talking about mister not-werewolf-but-there-is-a-wolf-in-there-somewhere!

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

to answer the other anon because I just saw that post the other day: no. her post is just the typical "zutara should've been canon" post but even more fucking stupid. also phoebester thinks that katara and aang are 13 and 16 during the events of the show, so she's also one of those zutara shippers who hasn't properly watched the show since 2008. truly don't see the point why you can't just. ship your ship. like why be fucking braindead about it

this is the post -> https://www.tumblr.com/phoebester/720313946505166848/zuko-however-was-willing-to-give-up-the-world?source=share

God, this bullshit post is so fucking condescending, it makes me sick.

No, honey, Zuko did not "give up the world" for Katara. It was a battle, his ally was in danger, and he tried to protect them. Can you tell me he wouldn't have done the same for Iroh? Or for Toph? Hell, for Aang himself? Don't get me wrong, it's a meaningful sacrifice, but it is NOT the same as what Aang was going through.

Aang didn't want to give up Katara for the world - in fact, Zutarians love using that as an exemple as why Kataang is bad actually (funny how, once again, what does and does not count as romantic depends on the ship for these people). In fact, we get Iroh telling him "By the way, I think you're right in choosing love over absolute power", which makes a ton of sense considering Iroh would have never lost his son if he had rejected the Fire Nation's imperialism earlier in life.

And when does Aang change his mind? When everything is getting out of control in Ba Sing Se, and if he doesn't enter the Avatar State, everyone will either be imprisoned or die - including Katara. And after Azula shoots him with lightning, who saves his life? Katara.

The choice between love and the world is an illusion. He CAN'T choose. He DOESN'T HAVE to choose. If Aang fully accepts his duties as the Avatar, there's a chance that Katara will die. If rejects his mission and doesn't take action Katara WILL die.

When Aang acts as the Avatar, he is doing it for the greater good - both of the people that he doesn't known, for the ones that are his motivation to keep going. Katara is not his temptation away from his duty, she is one more reason why he HAS to do keep trying.

In fact, Aang's arc is all about rejecting "necessary sacrifices" that are actually not necessary at all. Hence him refusing to let the horros of war take away his love for life, for the world, and even for the Fire Nation itself. Hence him allowing Katara, and his other friends, to actually act like kids again despite the burden of saving the world being their responsibility now. Hence him even sparing Ozai of all people as a proof that no more bloodshed is needed.

THAT is why he ends the show as both the Avatar, and as just a kid that is having some fun with his friends.

And about that last part of the post: NO, the ship war did not happen because Zutara wasn't canon. VERY funny how Zutarians being mad that their ship didn't happen is valid, but this person is full acting like if Zutara had happened then other people would not have the right to voice their opinion that the show would have been better off without it. THIS is what causes ship wars. Entitlement. Not people agreeing to disagree.

"Kataang fans would have understood where we were coming from" We DO understand. You liked a ship, said ship didn't happen, you were naturally upset about it. That is not the problem. The problem is the harrassment, the lies about both the canon and the intention of the writers, the refusal to just accept that Zutara would not have magically been universally loved if it had been canon. This petty fight goes on because you people just refuse to let it fucking die. We are not asking to stop liking your ship, we just ask that you stop forcing it down our throats and twisting the canon events to fit your narrative.

Also, this person should watch How I Met Your Mother. THAT show had the bullshit "Main character HAS to get the girl because one of the writers full on admited he was hardcore projecting onto said character" and in fact, the way they got together was by pulling the loathed tactic of "Let's kill off this character's partner", which this person seems to think magically makes everyone ship a different thing instead of only making them mad that the writers could not be bothered to come up with an actual reason as to why the characters didn't work together and gave them the ax instead.

And seriously, in what fucking world "Let kill off the last survivor of a genocide and thus botch the show's message of restoring balance just so two characters can kiss" a good narrative choice? I can accept people not liking Kataang, or even Aang himself, but HOW can anyone watch a show ABOUT THE WORLD HEALING FROM WAR AND GENOCIDE and think that it should end with one of the races of that fictional world losing it's last chance to keep on living? Couldn't they just say something as simple as "I headcanon that Kataang will break up eventually, and years later Katara will marry Zuko"? They have to ASK FOR THE FIRE NATION TO SUCCESSFULLY KILL OFF ALL THE AIR-NOMADS AND HAVE THAT BE SHOWN AS A SORT OF POSTIVE THING ACTUALLY?

[mental-mario]

Sibling Rivalry, Favoritism, and Multiplayer

Hey all, it's been an upsetting week for me, not gonna lie. I'm gonna skip the spiel and just get into it, so I'll just say that if you can relate then please Like and Follow and be sure to tip your struggling blogger. Also I'm lonely and need friends, so send me a request on Switch and message me on here as well! My mental issues make it difficult for me to sustain friendships, but I'd love a pen pal or 10k of them!

I'll be opening up more about things as I get more comfortable with this whole self-awareness and vulnerability thing, so subscribe and bear with me, but let's just say for now as a quick background that my mother is a narcissist, my dad is the flying monkey, my brother is the golden boy, and he married a conniving narcissist as well, so as to continue the cycle of abuse to his two kids. I am the damaged scapegoat who is trying to navigate away to healthier dynamics for my spouse and kids. I'm currently no-contact with my brother and his family as well as my mother and any relatives whatsoever. I do meet up with my dad occasionally for pancakes, but it is very much about sticking heads in the sand and pretending like we aren't estranged. I was no-contact with him as well until my wife informed him I was in the psych ward a couple months ago. I'm willing to answer questions as we go...

Anyway, he recently sent me $500 since I finally got up the nerve to put my pride and ego aside and outright ask him for help; something that has been instilled as a big source of shame for me to ever do because my mom especially would verbally berate me about how incompetent I am and how I would die alone and unwanted. Anyways, I digress, you may be asking what I would have to complain about? While I am thankful for any help I can get, let's just say $500 is chump change when it comes to my parents. They have money that I have been long since cut off from but that my brother and his family still very much access unabashedly, at the age of 32. I am 38. Also important to note is that he works a lucrative career where he has been able to make similar or better money as me over the past decade. The difference has been that my wife and I have been smart and careful with our money, while they have spent it recklessly. I always tend to leave out background details inadvertently, so I'm trying to recall as much as I can so as to not sound like unjustified soured grapes.

After years of no contact, our wives started communicating again, and it eventually got to where they decided to move to the south where we had relocated, originally in order to get away from them all. I wasn't thrilled about this, but I didn't want to deny my wife a chance at a friendship. My brother was reluctant to move here too, for reasons that I will get into someday as I work up the nerve to do so. My mom said I should take that said reason to the grave, but I'm not going to do that. They lived in an apartment for 6 months while making excellent money, by most people's standards, but they then exited out of the lease and moved into my parents' house, yet again, rent free, until they could buy a house of their own (or at least, that was how it was phrased to me when I decided to go nc with my parents yet again, due to the emotional pain of yet again seeing him and his family completely chosen over me and mine). They had to get out of their lease because they are assholes and got a bit too brazen with their neighbors. Despite being brazen in the past with neighbors who produced guns in their faces, they still find it rather funny to try and cave their downstairs neighbor's ceiling in by purposely jumping around as hard as they could out of spite. So long story short, another awful neighbor who couldn't take a joke decided to make them feel less than safe for their choices.

With the money and assets they have, there should've been no reason why they couldn't just pivot into another short term lease or something, but my parents ate up the chance to get into that abusive dynamic yet again, telling themselves that they couldn't let their son and his family go homeless (I can't say that without laughing because that is hardly the only other choice in this scenario). Regardless, we have come back into this situation because my parents decided to move those who we are once again no longer in contact with into their own house, essentially choosing a side once again. Of course, the explanation evolved from this being a temporary thing to suddenly they can't afford a down payment on anything because they don't have any money saved, meaning they would be living with them indefinitely. My only satisfaction in this was knowing that my mom's vicious lap dog, who she refuses to rehome because she spent $6k from a breeder, would be biting the shit out of all of them. Despite the dog being a barrier to letting my kids stay over my parents or anything of the sort, you can at least cordon a dog off for someone to visit. Sadly, they refuse to kennel my brother's wife.

Anyways, my spouse has some acquaintances in the real estate industry, since we have bought and sold a number of homes over the years. She got a message from one of them, asking her if she was aware how terribly entitled and obnoxious her in-laws are. Despite having to search numerous banks for a loan due to their awful credit rating, they still have the nerve to act like they are rich and powerful somehow. They were apparently searching originally for a house priced in the $300's but could not get a mortgage unless my parents cosigned and put up their retirement assets as collateral. They refused that, but they did cosign a mortgage for $200k. This after having always told me about how they would never cosign a loan for anyone ever. So basically, my parents bought my fully grown ass brother and his family a house, because when push comes to shove they will definitely stop paying the mortgage payment and could care less if they force my parents into doing so. Of course, I am sitting on this knowledge since before I was gifted $500 by my parents, and my parents won't ever tell me they did this. To answer your question, if you are asking it, I do intend to call my dad out on this, and it may be the last time I ever speak to him, depending on how that conversation goes.

My parents for the longest time would act like they did so evenly for both their kids and their grandkids, but I've called them out on that enough over the years so that they don't even make that claim anymore. From money to time spent to emotional support (if you can call it that), his family got 99.9%, and I'm an ingrate to complain about not getting my 0.1%. To clarify, I could care less except for the impact it all has had on my kids, but I do acknowledge that it's a blessing in disguise that my kids are growing up without that toxic influence so prevalent in their lives. Just makes me sad because if they would cosign a $200k mortgage for me like that, I'd be set for life, but bro's family gets rewarded for their recklessness while mine gets punished for trying to do things "the right way."

I want to shift gears now before I become too bitter, but I will just ask you to comment or message me, do you have experience with being the black sheep? If so, how's it going? Conversely, do you have experience being the golden child and self-aware of it? How has that been like for you??

To channel my inner Cranky Kong: kids these days experience multiplayer gaming far different than we did as young bloods. In my day *groans as he shifts in his recliner* multiplayer meant your friend or sibling played a single player game while you waited and rooted for them to screw up so you could have your turn to play! SMB3 made some progress in this by establishing a cooperative level progression, despite continuing the alternating turns system of play, but it was still waiting impatiently for your turn to play. Other games that did have simultaneous co-op could be frustrating if you had a younger sibling who couldn't hold up to your skill level. Nowadays, you got co-op where players don't get in each other's way, and you even got games that are accessible for players who can't coordinate keeping the acceleration button held down in Mario Kart. I may sound like I'm complaining, but I assure you this is quite the opposite. I might have had better interpersonal relationships growing up if it was more about this level of inclusive play and bonding rather than the confusing cooperative yet competitive setup that led to a rather passive aggressive style of friendships and relationships that I experienced.

A quick update before I wrap this up: I will be going away for a couple of weeks without access to internet, so know that I am okay during this time and will post more when I get back. I would like to ask, has anyone reading this ever called the suicide hotline, and what was that experience like for you? I have not yet called, but I do have them in my contacts (it's 988 in the US for anyone who doesn't know).

The holiday season is filled with controlling propaganda for family, friends, and other such obligations disguised as tradition, so if you are like me and can't conform to society's expectations, just know you aren't alone and that this is a safe spot to share and discuss. You don't have to feel shame and guilt for putting your own health and quality of life first. Trauma sucks, but we all have it. Understand that your own personal experience is valid and that you aren't lesser than anyone else. I hope you are able to find peace and comfort this season in your spirituality because that's far stronger than worrying about the company you keep, possessions you have, or living a lifestyle by others' standards. What's the point in living that way if it just adds to your stress? Family sucks, and that is why I have opted out. If you are considering doing the same but haven't yet, I hope you survive this year. If you are considering breaking free, I'm happy to lend a friendly ear and chat!

[monathedefiant]

last year, i joined @kiscon and it was the best fandom decision i'd made in a long time. i'd been in a number of fan groups but nothing like this one. i felt scene. i felt heard. i felt like i'd finally found my people.

then the group's leader @larissabernstein sent me an email on the morning of oct 9th letting me know that i'd been kicked out for "supporting terrorism".

what then followed was a series of increasingly hostile messages between us:

basically, she exposed herself to be a victim of zionist propaganda. i celebrated palestinian freedom fighters tearing down checkpoints, she saw me celebrating the death of her people. i acknowledged that israel's brutal actions against palestinians led to their freedom fighters taking drastic measures, she saw me hating jewish people.

the only thing i regret about my part in our conversation is that i didn't know enough to take the stance i should've when i had the chance.

instead i let her make me feel bad for hurting her personally which led to me trying to fix it with her before i really even understood what was going on or that many of hamas' alleged crimes were completely made up (plot twist: by israeli zionists!).

however, i learned quickly enough through my own research and ended up sending this final message a few days later:

the whole thing left me with a sour taste in my mouth. i'd felt so comfortable and so accepted by @kiscon and its members only to be tossed out like yesterday's trash when it was most convenient.

in retrospect, tho, i can at least respect that @larissabernstein outright told me how she felt about me and the whole situation. i had to learn through a third party that apparently my removal was a group decision and not just a sudden one made by her alone.

this explains why @lollians just straight up stopped responding to my messages. even tho they'd always seemed the friendliest towards me, to the point of sending me a uhura button.

but it doesn't explain why @1lostone told me this:

when i reached out them on the day i was kicked out. instead they gave me a vague response where they pretended to be shocked and then completely ghosted me.

meanwhile, @kiscon shared these posts on their twitter and then tumblr that same day:

it's been crickets from most of the other @kiscon members (other than @page-of-wands11 who at least had kind words for me when i reached out afterwards).

these past 2 months have been hard. even moreso because @kiscon was a source of comfort i had for a year. then i lost it in a day with nothing to replace it.

no more tight-knit group of k/s shippers with inside jokes. no more fellow trekkies meeting up via zoom on saturdays to rewatch tos episodes, play games, or just share thoughts -- on trek or anything else.

i miss it. then saturday rolls around and i miss it even more. but if the price of that comraderie was my silence in the face of palestinian suffering, i was never going to pay it.

and anyway, losing @kiscon has opened me up to finding a trek/spirk group that doesn't ask me to compromise my morals for a sense of belonging.

i can't wait to find them! bonus points if they're black trekkies + trekkies of color + queer trekkies!!

🖖🏾

[holorform]

Clockwise

Teviallio is out once again. He hoped that he wouldn't glitch out like the other days. He remembers Radio woman's warnings about glitching or no-clipping, and that he should be carefull when going out, and so he did. He avoided rocks on the road that could make him trip and possibly no-clip to another level or a dangerous one, and even avoiding the people who were playing. There might be a chance they could hit him, like that one ball that hit him in the head when he was at the Eyed Mushrooms Neighborhood visit for a friend.

You wondered why he was out here, outside of his home? Well, you see… his father ordered him to hand this strange, heavy box to Mrs. Twelve. His father could've asked Teviallio's brother but unfortunately, the brother was busy. So that left Teviallio to be available. So here he was, walking on a path that leads to The Clock Town.

While he was walking, he hummed a tune that came out as static. Ahead of him was The Clock Town; he could hear the loud bell ringing from the huge clock tower, which intimidated the town. The noise sent him to shiver like a cartoon character and clutched the heavy box in his arms, it was so loud that he felt intimidated by the clock tower. Why did he felt fear all of the sudden… He had no choice but to move onwards. To be honest, this is the first time seeing a clock town up close, and first time entering too.

He took a deep breath and move forward. 'Here he goes nothing, I guess…'

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Okay he gotta admit, the town here, is beautiful and peaceful! Why did he felt so scared? It was because of the clock tower It was a silly thing to feel about. A smiley emoticon appeared on his screen as he began to search for Mrs. Twelve's house. "(⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)" While searching, he observed the town. The houses here was unique, this place had a little bit of steam punk style, he could feel the rocky path beneath his feet, he could smell freshly baked breads from a bakery when he passed by. He should've skipped breakfast, now he's hungry

He heard a mechanic noises that is being repaired, he looked at the source and sees a person with a Watch for a head, fixing something. He walked passed them and continued to look for Mrs. Twelve's house.

Then suddenly, the clock tower rings loudly.

DIINGGGGGG!!

The sudden noise caused him to instantly cover his auditory receptors as his screen showed an emoticon. "(⁠ᗒ⁠ᗩ⁠ᗕ⁠)" he could've sworn he heard a ringing from of his head.

Out of the blue, the skies turned grey, as an angry clouds covering the sun with no sunlight to be seen. Then, rain came crashing down, hard. "####!" He cursed when he realised the box he is carrying in his arms is getting wet by the rain, himself included. Quickly, he ran to find shelter to prevent the delivery package from getting wet and to avoid getting sick from the rain.

Once he found a spot, he took shelter and just stood there while carrying the box in his hands. His fingers felt the wet cardboard box; the content inside was almost ripping the box. His arms are slowly aching from the weight of this heavy box.

His clothes are now soaked from the heavy rain, and he could feel the cold wind that bit his skin through his clothes. His legs were shivering as he hugged the cardboard box, looking for warmth. What a day…

As the rain continued to fall, he heard a voice that sounded like a woman's voice, with a hint of concern in her tone. "Oh my! You poor thing." Teviallio turned to look at the source of the worried voice. It was a lady who had a clock for a head, with glowing numbers and glowing claws, she was wearing a dark cloak to prevent herself from the cold. In her hands, she is holding an umbrella, preventing herself from getting dampened by the rain.

The clockwoman approached the young boy and said, "Here, let me help you, sweet pea." She opened her cloak wide for him to take cover. Gratefully, he stepped closer and hid himself inside the woman's cloak. "Good boy" She praised. Then, she begin to carefully guided him to her house.

Inside her cloak, he felt warm, and he could smell the rain as he gently clutched the box in his arms. He still hadn't delivered the package to Mrs. Twelve yet. Guess he had to wait for now.

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Once they finally arrived, the clockwoman opened the door, and both of them headed inside. She lifted the black cloth to let the boy step out of her cloak, and he did so. Upon stepping out, the first thing he sees is a chimney with a fire that is already lit. Eagerly, he quickly moves towards the chimney, he put the box down on the floor and lifts his hands up for warmth. Meanwhile, the clock lady put the wet umbrella away.

She took her cloak off and hung it on the vintage wooden coat rack, she looked at the blue TV entity with pity before going into her room to change her outfit.

Back to Teviallio, he took off his now wet hoodie, revealing him wearing a white sando, he then sat cross-legged on a carpeted floor while warming himself by the fireplace. He was thankful for the woman's kindness; if she hadn't been there to help, then something bad might've happened to him. With a sigh, he relaxed as he smelled the cinnamon and vanilla inside the house. The atmosphere here felt homey, with the faint noise of rain outside and a fire that gently crackles. He felt at peace… his screen showed an emoticon that expresses a relaxed emotion. "(⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠ ‿ ◡⁠`⁠)"

The clock lady opened a drawer and pulled out various pieces of clothing for the child to wear; some were too big, and some were too small for her liking. After rummaging through her drawers, she finally found an outfit for the boy. Nodding in satisfaction, she headed out of her room to go back to where she left him. And there he was, sleeping on the carpeted floor, lying next to the fireplace. 'By the angel eyes! Don't sleep on the floor!' The woman looked at the young boy with worry.

She hurriedly put the clothes on a nearby couch and gently lifted him up from the floor, carrying him to the guest room with slow movements so as not to wake him up.

She quietly opened the guest room's door and went inside as silent as she could. Inside the room had a window with milky white curtains opened, a vintage table beside the bed, and a lamp on a vintage wooden table. And of course, there is also a wooden closet.

Then, she slowly placed him on a bed, careful not to wake him. She then grabbed a blanket from the closet and silently draped it over the child's body to keep him warm. Turning the lamp on, she took a step back before flicking the lights off, and quietly left the room, leaving the child to drift off in a dreamland…

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The screen suddenly flashed on in the guest room, the channel switched to another channel, and then he woke up in an unfamiliar room. 'Where am I..?' He recalled to what had happened, before he got here in this room that didn't belong to him. He remembered his father asked him to deliver for someone… but who was it for? Then he arrived at the Clock Town, and then…

Oh right! Now he remember!

He was supposed to deliver the box to Mrs. Twelve! But then a heavy rain came, and a lady kindly offered him help with no hesitation. He remembered what happened now. Also, who changed his clothes? He doesn't remember wearing this yellow frilled long-sleeved shirt, and it was tucked in with black pants. Nevermind that. He looked out the window that is beside him to check if the rain is gone; to his dismay, the rain is still there. He expressed an emoticon on his screen. "=⁠_⁠=" He slid off the bed and stepped closer to the window and sang in a monotonous way. "….ǝsɐǝld ʎɐʍɐ oƃ ,nᴉɐɹ ,nᴉɐɹ" Then he moved away from the window and went to open the door.

Twisting the doorknob, he opened the door slightly wider, took a peek before leaving the room. "Oh! I see you're awake now." A sweet voice said with a hint of surprise in her tone. Tev turned around and saw the woman who saved him from the rain an hours ago.

She wore a maroon dress, a soft yellow petticoat with a crimson red apron skirt, yellow frills in the middle and her neck, and a brown corset. She even had a hat that matched the color of her dress except for the feather, the feather's color is peach with a hue of pink. "Deary, tell me; are you sick?" She said, approaching the young boy and touched his upper face where his forehead should be.

He shook his head, telling her a no. "Good, I thought you'd be very sick. I was worried for a second." She sighed in relief and took a step back to give him space. "honey, what's your name hmm?" She asked as she bent down to his height. "…." He suddenly felt shy; and started to fidget with his fingers as he told her his name.

"Aww, no need to feel so shy around me hun! it's not like I'm going to kill hurt you." She giggled and gently poked his face, playfully. "Do you know where you live? Maybe I can sent you back." He was about to say his address, but then he remembered the package that he was supposed to send to Miss Twelve. "..ǝʌlǝʍ┴ ssᴉɯ oʇ ʇᴉ dnǝs oʇ ǝɯ dloʇ ɹǝɥʇɐℲ ?ǝƃɐʞɔɐd ǝɥʇ s'ǝɹǝɥʍ ,ʇᴉɐM"

"You mean that thing over there?" she then pointed at the package that is on table. "Oh, that package is mine! Thank you Tevvy for delivering it to me." she patted his head. 'Wait what… So like--'

The clock lady in front of him, is in fact miss Twelve! She is the second oldest of their noble family. His father told him if he ever encountered one of the highest rank, he must bow them in respect.

Realizing, he immediately bowed down to her in a curtsy. "Oh dear, there is no need for you to bow! Please stand up." And he obliged. "I may be a noble lady in a noble family, but bowing to me isn't necessary. When it's just me alone, that is." "…." he nods at her silently.

"Anyways! You didn't answer my question." 'Oh yeah… he almost forgot about that.'

"××××××××." He told her adress. She clasps her hands together and said. "Goodness, you travel all the way here just to send this package?! Your city is too far, hun." Her voice laced with worry, she stood up from her bending position to move away and grab a vintage telephone. This caused him to stiffen his posture. "!-ʇᴉɐM"

She lift her index finger at him and said. "Ah, ah, ah! Don't worry hun, I'm just calling someone that could take you back to your city." Then his shoulders slouched as he sighs. "(⁠ー⁠_⁠ー⁠゛⁠)"

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This might sound silly, but he was being dragged by her, a noble one at that. Her hand gripped his arm, but not tight enough to break his bone, though.

He tried to catch up with his short legs, but sadly he couldn't because the noble clock lady was tall, so tall that she could stride with long steps. HONK! HONK! "Right on time! The driver is here, Tevvy." She exclaimed as she continued to drag him over to the driver to take him home. Teviallio squirmed under her grip, he's uncomfortable with how she clutched her hand on him. But kept silent.

Once she sees the car and the driver, she halts and lets go of his hand as she approaches the man with an old Timewatch for a head. The two clock headed entities talked like they were friends, based on how they talked and acted to each other.

Teviallio walked up to them, then the noble lady suddenly grabbed him by the back of his long-sleeved shirt without the need of looking back. "This is Teviallio, please send him back to his city safely, friend," she explained and introduced him to the driver in two seconds. The driver nodded and opened the door, gesturing Tev to get in.

Before he was about to get inside the car, he turns around to the lady and said.

"!ǝʌlǝʍ┴ ssᴉɯ ,ʎʇᴉsoɹǝnǝƃ ʇnoʎ ɹoɟ noʎ ʞnɐɥ┴"

"Clockwise, dear." pun intended.

His screen flashes a smiley emoticon at her, and then getting inside the car. The man closed the door and moved to the side of the car to get into the driver's seat.

The engine roared to life, wheels started to roll slowly as the clock lady looked at the window car where the child was is, she waved a goodbye at him before the car moved its wheels, leaving the noblewoman behind.

As the car moved out of sight and turned into a dot, she headed back to her house.

"……"

His actions reminded her for someone else… someone that she used to love and care for.

She arrived home, and immediately went into her room. When she enters, the first thing she sees is a picture frame sitting on her bedside. The picture shows a boy with a orange clock for a head and a tall man with the same object like the boy beside him.

And beside the man is her.

She lifted the frame from the bedside with delicate and care, you may not see her expression because her head is a clock instead of a normal human head. However, her movements showed her true feelings.

"….." She can't help but feel guilty when looking at the pictue.

That blue tv entity reminded her as her son, Clark…

The way he moved and the way he talked were the exact same things that her son did before he died… "……" Maybe, if she can ꀗꂑꂠꋊꁲꉣ ꍩꂑꂵ ꁲꋊꂠ ꂵꁲꀗꈼ ꍩꂑꂵ ꁲꌚ ꍩꈼꌅ ꌚꂦꋊ…

No! stop! That's horrible..!

This isn't like her, she shouldn't have think of such a thing to a child that is not hers. She needed to put her mind at ease.

With a shaky hand, she put the picture back to where it was before leaving her room.

[josefavomjaaga]

Hi Josefa, it's solii just in case the account switch is confusing.

I was wondering if you have any quotes from Napoleon about Soult? It's for a project I'm currently working on! Epic History TV did include a quote from Naps on their video about the marshals but the quote was basically Naps talking about how he should've had Soult shot 😅 so I was hoping you know any quotes where he says something at least decent about Soult. Hope this isn't much of a bother!

Thank you so much!!

Hi and thanks for the clarification! 💖 (Tumblr is confusing me on a daily basis though, so I'm quite used to it 😁.) And no, it's not a bother at all - I'm so glad somebody gives sourface Soult the chance to make a positive impression!

So, Napoleon talking about Soult... I guess Napoleon's most famous saying is that Soult was "le premier manoeuvrier de l'Europe" (the first tactician of Europe). Napoleon allegedly called Soult this after the battle of Austerlitz, to which Soult's 4th corps had contributed much by occupying and holding the famous Pratzen heights.

However, I do not really know the source for this quote, so I would rather go with an actual statement by Napoleon, made during the final phase of the battle, when the emperor and his entourage, who had been behind the lines before, joined Soult and his staff on the secured Pratzen heights:

When all the heights that the Russians had covered at the outset of the battle had been taken […], the Emperor joined Marshal Soult, who had dismounted near a small building that I believe was called the Chapelle de Pratzen or de Saint-Antoine. [...] The Emperor also dismounted, and approaching the marshal who was coming to meet him, he embraced him; the marshal showed him the position of the retreating Russian army, and asked for his orders. "Continue, continue, Monsieur le maréchal," said the Emperor, "you know as well as I do what needs to be done."

Napoleon: Oh, just keep doing whatever it is you're doing there. Looks good. I like it.

Which is both high praise and a great show of confidence for Soult. The passage above is translated from the memoirs of Soult's ADC Saint-Chamans (page 26), and Saint-Chamans' colleague Petiet also remembers that scene of Napoleon arriving on Pratzen, with the same words by Napoleon.

On reading the correspondence of Joseph Bonaparte I also had the impression that, before he was spoon-fed the bogus "roi Nicolas" stories that completely discredited Soult in the eyes of the emperor, Napoleon was extremely worried for Soult's safety and almost went nuts when he learned that Joseph and Jourdan had basically given up on trying to restore communications with the corps of Ney and Soult, who were left isolated and almost to their own for months after Napoleon had left Spain in January 1808.

But even after 1808, when he saw in Soult the potential "roi Nicolas" usurper (or at least pretended to), Napoleon still made Soult the factual general-in-chief in Spain and even - on being asked - expressed him his trust. And as late as 1812, when Joseph's aide colonel Desprez (whose letter to Joseph can be found in this post) had to travel to Moscow in order to bring Napoleon Joseph's latest complaints about Soult, [...]

[Napoleon] added that Marshal Soult's was the only military head in Spain; that he could not withdraw him without endangering the army; [...]

an assumption that Joseph in 1813 managed to prove utterly correct by the disastrous defeat of Vittoria a couple of months after Soult had been called to Germany. (What Napoleon did then is also telling: He immediately sent Soult back to Spain, gave him superior command and almost unrestricted authority - including the power to f-ing arrest Joseph Bonaparte if need be!)

As to the quote in "Epic History TV", I assume it is this one:

J'aurais du faire un grand exemple et faire fusiller Soult, le plus pillard d'entre eux. - I should have set a great example and have Soult, the greatest plunderer of them all, shot.

Which is taken from the second volume of the "Récits de la captivité de l'Empereur" by Montholon, one of Napoleon's companions during his years on Saint Helena. So, this is allegedly a quote Napoleon made about Soult during his captivity on that island. I say allegedly, because personally I tend to believe it's fake. I've not really read much of the Saint Helena accounts but so far I have not found this quote anywhere but in Montholon's book. Considering how many sources we have from those short years and how close the members of Napoleon's little court were living together, this seems at least astonishing. Usually, Napoleon's statements can be found in several sources - sometimes in variations, but at least in essence the same.

It's also interesting to me that even in Joseph's correspondence - published with the explicit agenda of blaming Soult for everything that went wrong with the French in Spain - there is not the slightest reproach, not even a hint of a mention that Soult was enriching himself personally in any way, before mid- to end-1810, when Soult had taken over the administration of Andalusia, thus depriving Joseph of a source of income the latter had hoped for, and escaping Joseph's direct authority.

Finally, Montholon wrote his "Récits" in 1846, while he was imprisoned in the fort of Ham, together with a certain Louis Napoléon Bonaparte, whom he had helped in botching yet another attempt to reinstate the Bonaparte empire and to overthrow the Orléanist July monarchy - of which Soult was the "great old man". I feel like this is the source of plenty of the attacks and calumnies against Soult.

And to get back to what Napoleon said about Soult: According to the 1824 edition of Las Cases' "Memorial", there is also this:

S[oult] also had his faults as well as his merits. [...] It will scarcely be credited that this man, whose deportment and manners denoted a lofty character, was the slave of his wife. [...]

However, this passage is not in the original manuscript of the Mémorial. So, whereever Las Cases got this anecdote from, it may not have been from Napoleon.

That Napoleon would have been shocked at a husband actually caring for the opinion of his wife, that I will readily believe 😁.

I hope something of that is of interest for your project (and that you can share it with us, maybe?), if you need something better, I would have to go searching (which could take a bit but would be no trouble at all!)

Thank you for the Ask! and good luck for whatever you are working on! 💖