#and by god I'm hitting every branch learning that on the way down

[andersam5]

i know this comic most likely isn’t on your mind at the moment but will don’t look down ever be coming back?

Oh trust me, I'm very aware of how unfinished Don't Look Down is. I did have the entire script written out (I'll have to try and track it down in my files) and when I was writing it I was experimenting with a different workflow. It obviously didn't completely work out lol

I think I also got too far bogged down with the mechanics of the story and trying to find that balance of "Make things threatening but the status quo is to stay more or less unchanged by the end" If that makes sense. I'm still very much learning by ear how to write stories for comics. I feel like I'm much better writing straight up stories/fics and I've been having trouble translating those skills into writing for comics,

I'm definitely keeping all the notes and scripts I wrote and would love to return to it someday once I can break out of the perfectionist nature I seem to have gotten locked into while I was making it

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.5k / 20 / post-apocalypse au, part 1

...

You're injured but moving as fast as you can with your bow slung over your back. Soap is close behind you, giving chase, shouting your name as he does. Doesn't he learn? Doesn't he know you'll pull your bow on him again if he corners you?

He must know, but he's too stubborn to give up the chase. You don’t understand it.

He pushes on, just as graceful and twice as effective as you. You slip through the thick trees and their branches trailing whips of brambles. He shoves past them. You’re injured. He’s not. He's gaining, boots heavy in the soil.

"Watch yourself--!"

Your boot lands on leaf litter that falls out from under you--a pit trap. You’re moving barely fast enough for your momentum to save you from falling in. Your waist hits the edge of the pit. You brace yourself by your elbows, fingers digging into the dirt. The soft underside of your arms drag against something sharp underneath.

Soap grabs you by your coat and pulls you up out of the trap and to your feet before you can scramble out yourself. You're neither surprised nor mollified by his careful handling of you.

"Let me go!"

"Na. You're hurt. Stay still."

"Soap, I swear to God--"

"Shut up. I'm taking a look."

He holds your arm firmly with one large hand and, with the other, pulls your sleeve away from the bleeding gash. You grab his wrist with a pained curse. Whatever caught your arms—the rough wood and metal at the trap's edge—tore you bloody. Soap glares at the gash and then at you. He's close.

You could reach for your bow or for the dagger on your hip. But you know for a fact he's armed. With guns. A sniper rifle on his back and two sidearms at his belt. He knows how to use them, too. If you fight, he wins. But you know better than to back down quickly. The world is crueler than it used to be ever since things went to shit. People who show weakness don’t survive.

"Why are you following me?" you growl, your grip on his wrist tightening.

His grip on you loosens in turn when you speak. "You know why. I'm lookin' out for ya."

"I didn't ask for your help."

"Aye, but you still needed it."

"You're not a soldier anymore, Soap," you retort, trying to pull your wrist away. "It's every person for themselves. Stop following me."

"That's no way to live. The world may be a shithole, but there are still folk around who'll lend you a hand even though they don't need to. Soldier or no'."

You can't get out of his grip when he's determined to keep you there, and he is. As much as you'd like to give him a matching wound for being so goddamn stubborn, the rational part of your brain--the part that makes sure you survive--knows better than to expend energy struggling when it's not strictly necessary.

"Nobody lends a hand unless they want something in return," you mutter, glaring down at your wound as he bandages it. "Even if they're pretending otherwise."

He knows you speak from experience. You're a woman, and that means you're nothing but a resource to the worst of whoever’s left. He can't blame you for being guarded. Then again, you wouldn't be making such heated statements to his face if you really thought he intended to hurt you. You're just... defensive. Hiding under all that anger. That's what he tells himself. So he ignores your grumbled protests.

"That's how you'd look at it," he finally replies as he finishes dressing the wound. "Seein' as you've not met the right people. But some of us don't expect anything back."

"You don't expect it because you think you're better than asking. But you still want it."

"Might be so." His voice is soft, gravelly, but you can hear the steel in it. "But am not asking, now am I? So stop your fussin'. You're safe. Nae need to worry." He releases your bandaged arm.

"You run your hand along the wrapping, checking it. "Fine. But I'm... I'm not coming back with you."

"Can't promise you'll be safe out there. Where do ye plan to go?"

"I don't know. Wouldn't tell you if I did."

"Aye." He rubs his jaw, examining you with flint in his blue eyes. Pressing you for an answer would be pointless. Not that you seem to be lying—but you're not telling the whole truth. The short history you share with him is just enough that he can tell. But he also knows trying to change your mind would be pointless. If you won't listen, he'd have better luck bashing his head against one of these huge, mutated oaks.

"Am nae stoppin' ya. But these woods are full of treacherous paths. If ye run into trouble—when ye run into trouble--my boys and I, we know these woods well enough to dust you off and send you in the right direction. Cannae promise to find you before somethin’ else does, though."

You're fairly sure he's not lying. His boys, as he calls them—his old squad, you think—they've made their home in these woods. It's perilous living—bears, wolves, muties, and terrain just as hazardous as the wildlife. And still those men are the most dangerous things in here.

The offer is tempting. You consider it for longer than you should, looking down at your bandaged arm again. But then you step back, shaking your head slowly. "No, thanks. I have to get going."

It tears him up inside. You're making the wrong choice. If he lets you walk away, he's letting you walk to your death.

He looks at you for a moment. You can tell he's got something more to say. But he changes his mind, stepping back as well. He pulls something from his belt and holds it out. A handgun, scuffed and black, grip held toward you. You stare at it for a second before looking back up at him. He's serious?

"I'm not gonna take that--"

"You're damn well gonna take it." His voice is low and insistent. "You think I don't know you'll run into trouble out here? Don't be a fool. I have spare. Take it."

Your one rule is don't owe anybody anything. How the fuck are you about to owe this man twice?

Fine. Whatever. It's not like you have to use it. Could just barter it. Not like you’re going to see him again. You take the gun, biting back a retort.

He nods his approval. The steely look in his eyes softens, though he still looks dismayed. "Mind where you point that. And when you pull it. Biters'll hear it for a mile and come running. Survivors, too. The curious ones." He glances at your bandaged arm one more time. Then he adjusts the bag over his shoulder and turns his back, walking away from you. Back to camp. "Am expectin' you to keep yourself alive with that," he growls. "Or else it's a lot of good time and material I wasted on ya."

"I didn't ask you to waste your breath," you retort, practically snarling at his retreating back in your irritation. You watch him go until he's disappeared into the trees. You need to make sure he doesn't plan on doubling back and following you.

Then you set off on your own. You take a winding path to throw off any trackers. Never can be too cautious. The gun in your pocket is heavy against your thigh, and you try not to think of it as a comforting security.

You came here to get Roach back, and you don’t care how long you have to wander this Godforsaken forest. You’re not leaving without him.

…

Soap feels your eyes on him until you disappear.

He wants to divorce himself from this, but he’s on edge. People who strike out on their own here come to a nasty end. But he’s not going to take away your agency by deciding what's best for you. You were right about him not being a soldier, after all. He doesn’t have the authority to herd you back to his squad’s campsite. Your life is in your own hands.

He just hopes you live to do better than he believes you will.

That night, he sleeps restlessly. Which is why, when he hears a cluster of gunshots in the distance, he wakes up instantly. It's you. In trouble.

The night watch—Gaz tonight—is already there, tossing Soap's gun to him. "You were right," Gaz says.

"Course I was," Soap says with a lopsided grin. "Owe me a ten-piece in the next poker game, aye?"

...

[part 1] / part 2 / part 3

more Soap / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[nikoisme]

Alright Achilles and Patroclus headcanons take 2:

-Patroclus is older than Achilles (this is canon but it's fine),, not by much, in my head it's about 2 years;

-They are the same height!

-Before Patroclus killed the boy over dice, they got into a fight and Patroclus ended up breaking his nose. It healed with a slight deformity and he has a bit of problems with breathing through his nose;

-I portray Achilles with amber/hazel-ish eyes,, but i'm so tempted to change them to blue purely because of this:

-Achilles and Patroclus got along immediately. You know how some kids in kindergarten are best friends and maybe swore a blood oath by the end of the first day? That's them.

-Chiron had to constantly keep them from getting into trouble and getting killed. They were really reckless as kids.

-Patroclus almost never gets sick. Even when he does, it's nothing serious. Achilles on the other hand? He's the first to catch a cold or any sickness. The moment it gets slightly colder he is sick;

-Achilles is an excellent swimmer and can hold his breath underwater longer than average;

-It's not that Achilles is afraid of Patroclus' dogs,, he just avoids them. Doesn't think much about them, but they kind of tolerate each other based on their shared love for Patroclus.

-Achilles and Patroclus kind of have this little.. grudge against each other since they were kids. It started with Achilles tripping Patroclus. Then Patroclus returned it by letting a branch hit Achilles (he didn't hold it for Achilles to pass,, he just let go of it and it smacked him in the face). And that whole "oh you'll fucking see for this" thing extended through adulthood;

-Patroclus' sense of humor I talked about here;

-Also he has a habit of boasting over someone he's killed and just cracking jokes as he kills them, and usually someone of the Achaeans will hear him and go "oh my gods" and just burst into laughter;

-He does that partially because Trojans will obviously be pissed off and rush forward,, but he just wants them to come closer so he can kill them;

-On that topic, Achilles doesn't really know how to joke. He doesn't understand most of the jokes, and frankly doesn't like them. He only understands Patroclus' humor and slowly learned his own as time went on. Also he is shit at recognizing tone of voice (that's why he is on complicated terms with odysseus. never knows if he is fucking with him or not).

-And my interpretation of their relationship here;

-Thetis and Patroclus never interacted much, but she is quite fond of him;

-While Patroclus gets along with pretty much everyone in camp, he isn't afraid to call out anyone's bullshit.

-For example; he gets along just fine with Odysseus (they often talk about dogs :D) but he is willing to get into an argument with him any time.

-On the other hand, Achilles and Odysseus get along great on some days, but on some days they can't stand each other's guts.

-You know how we talk about how Patroclus has to hold Achilles back when he gets mad? I stand by that. But whenever Patroclus gets mad, he has to be held back by several people (that usually being Achilles, Automedon and/or Phoenix). He needs to be given a lot of time to calm down.

-On that topic, Patroclus has so much rage stuffed inside of him. He just chooses to remain calm and collected and find a reasonable solution for things,, but as a result he is a ticking bomb just waiting to explode. He usually takes that rage out on the battlefield.

-Patroclus and Achilles aren't constantly next to each other in battle. They are always ready to rush in and help on other sides of the battlefield, then they get distracted and just fight their way through. But they always somehow spawn next to each other. One will turn around and see the other just fighting next to him out of nowhere.

-Achilles doesn't really mind blood (he literally spills it every day). But he kind of freaks out when he sees his own, whether it's a nose bleed or whatever. On the other hand Patroclus tends to his own wounds by himself like it's nothing.

-Now, they are both formidable warriors on their own. A Trojan soldier will see Achilles and while that's horrible on its own,, he can't help but think where is the other one??? And then he gets killed from behind by Patroclus. They like to ambush soldiers like that.

-Patroclus is the one who listens to Nestor's long stories. Listen, everyone at camp respects the man, but they always find a way to get Patroclus to do the listening instead of them. He takes one for the team.

-Also Achilles gets nosebleeds often.

-Patroclus and Menelaus were really good friends! And after Patroclus was killed, guilt was devouring Menelaus from the inside.

-Antilochus kept a very close eye on Achilles after Patroclus died. He is also one of the first/only people Achilles let into his life after Patroclus.

[middle-ans]

omg just wanna say ancient egypt au sounds so insanely interesting (sorry i just loved ancient egypt as a kid and i'm a bit of a history nerd now) so i'm ready to learn anything about this story!💫

Good for you, precious, I’m very much the same that way! I had so many thoughts on this idea, so I came up with this precise world picture - 90 BC, Roman Emperor shares a world domination with Egyptian ruler, came to rather fall into another war or build peace with him.

Don’t let the names confuse you - Lewis is the inheritor to the Egypt’s first ruler and God of the Sun - Ra, given the name Lewsaen (Sa-En-Ra meaning “Son of Ra”). George has a more Roman-like version of his name, Georgián, a son of Roman Emperor Octavian, so that he’s taking a family name tradition with its ending. (2202 words)

A caravan of ships parted the deep waters of Nile in a lavish gold framework, dozens of them traveling upstream, from the port with sails of Roman Empire to the very heart of the Egyptian ruler's domain. A palace of which the Emperor Octavian's majesty could not help but squint his eyes in resentment. A bright blinding white stone in the middle of the desert, a diamond cruelly cutting an eye in the sprawling freshness of the oasis around it - gardens, labyrinths, tangled paths with fountains and statues, all raised in honor of the ancestors of the ancient Lewsaen dynasty. It was as if the great Pharaoh was trying to signify his superiority even before the very encounter.

He did not wear a crown like the kings Octavian had met, nor did he frame his head with the gold of elaborately wrought laurel branches, but shone brighter than the sun itself, named as the son of God Ra, the Sun God, the first ruler of Egypt. Chest proudly exposed in painted steady ink, woven into the history of his peoples and armies, cloak in richly embellished weaved designs of the finest fabrics, kept in place by stones and a wide necklace holding his neck to the collarbones. A belt bearing the symbol of the celestial daylight, all glory of his heritage with wings majestically spread open around his waist, a heavy leather skirt fell in strictly cut wisps down to mid-thigh. Bracelets and anklets with lapis lazuli as a token - as soon as he sets foot on foreign soil, all its goods belong to him. He is death and life itself, creator and destructor, having swept half the world under the soles of his sandals. And yet, unable to live in peace while the other half would so persistently seek out the cracks in his power to hit the fractures harder.

Octavian had been bathed in luxury more than any other ruler who had stepped onto the desert sands before the gates of Pharaoh's palace, and yet he had the most meticulous eye to catch the imperfections in the mosaics on the floor and the shapely engraved columns of every hall he walked down. A whole wing was given over to the entire delegation that had arrived as part of the Emperor's court, and even with canvases in Roman designs over the beds, Octavian was unwilling to submit to hospitality.

His tongue was a vial carrying poison, releasing a drop into every dish on table, loose and unleashed even before the servants fed them wine. Something sadistic in his nature reveled in the tension of every muscle in Pharaoh's face, and though they sat at different ends of the long table, the message was unmistakable. Both Alphas, both greedy for every bit of power that threatened to slip from their grasp. Pride played skillfully against the other, and one could find themselves in a state close to what they should have been trying to steer away from - one word dividing the world between war and peace.

“Enough,” Pharaoh growls, pushing the chair back to bump against the milky marble.

He storms out of the hall, staring straight ahead as none of the guards' gazes dare rise to his firmly striding form. He had stepped on the throat of his own pride, arranged things as no one had ever been welcomed into his richest of creations, his palace, the heart of the kingdom, the walls that held the greatest honor to his essence, and this very guest was insolent enough to continue his manipulative games with him even here. Pharaoh could not be humiliated so openly and defiantly. Rushing through the hallways past the rooms of Romans, Alpha sought warm flesh and blood as a snake coiled in the garden, in need of quenching its thirst by shooting venom into a fortuitous victim. All the doors in the wing closed except for one.

Pharaoh peered inside through the slightest gap, seeing the Roman banner on the walls and Octavian's scattering of jewelry, must be someone of supreme importance to the Emperor. A figure stood at the neatly paved column leading to the balcony, a slender, tall form curved in a relaxed stance, a Roman tunic girt at the notable waist and among the jewels around his wrists and ankles, Pharaoh suddenly caught sight of bare feet gracing the marble of the rooms of his palace. None other than Omega of beauty and elegance such that any harem would pale against him was turned with his back to the door and surveyed the rich realms of the Egyptian ruler right up to the horizon burning with flames of setting sun. Lewis didn't hesitate as he pushed the door open wider.

He thought the silhouette startled him, but when Omega turned around at the sound of his footsteps, Pharaoh could find himself nowhere but already captured in the depths of blue eyes.

“Pharaoh,” a voice so soft and calm, as if the Alpha's very figure did not inspire a shiver of fear in him. “I did not expect such company.”

“And who can you be?”

Lewis took a few steps toward him, drawn to the slightest motion of hands that circled the curve of his hips against the column of the balcony.

“Georgian. Son of the Roman Emperor Octavian.”

Yes, now Lewis could match the details. His posture was noble, every breath Omega turned into words radiated regality, he was no ordinary ornament to the overall picture, rather the one and only center of it. Touching him phantomly with only cautious sweeps of his lashes in shifting glances, Pharaoh already wished he could see his profile carved in stone on the walls of his palace.

“He brought you here?” Alpha hummed intrigued. “Into the heart of the kingdom of his sworn worst enemy? While so shamelessly and carelessly playing with me, urging me to war?”

Omega sighed, letting a faint breeze ruffle his curls. They framed the well-defined and sharp edges of his face with angelic curls, falling low down the back of his head, supported only by a laurel wreath of shining gold around his head. Not beautiful enough to match the fair youthful appearance of the young heir to the throne of Rome.

“My father is no doubt a great ruler. Managing to conquer more lands than his predecessor, but great men like you, Pharaoh, know well what power does to minds. He sees no other way but war to keep force. The more he takes, the more he demands.”

“Do you assume my ambitions aren't soaring higher than his?” Lewis teases him with the curve of a smile, mesmerized the moment he sees the answer on a face made of milky rivers and rose petals in the blush of lips.

“You are a man of deeds, not words. You have no need to voice your ambitions when you can show them by expanding the boundaries of your reign.”

Georgian leans on the column fully, winding his arms behind his back and gliding barefoot across the stone floor as if the air itself obeyed his grace, cradling the hem of the tunic molded to his figure.

“I rarely have the pleasure of someone speaking so wisely and freely,” Pharaoh follows him like a bewitched man, always within a stone's throw of the invisible boundary from the tips of Omega's toes. “You don't know fear at all?”

“Fear is such an aimless waste of emotion,” from an outsider's mouth he'd regard it as flattery and braggadocio, but Georgian is sincere, in every opening of his mouth, he of all people wouldn't need a chant to his father's nightmare. “Besides, should I fear a man who offers hospitality so generously even to his obvious enemies? We expected swords and soldiers in the harbor; in lieu of that, you sent five dozen of your ships, trimmed in gold, to carry us down the Nile to your home. Chose this very palace, open as a palm in the middle of pyramids, rather than imprison us in an impregnable fortress as hostages and seize the chance to end Roman rule. But here I am. In the richly adorned rooms you have provided for us. I owe you no fear, only gratitude.”

“I find myself one step away from questioning the generosity,” Lewis drops his voice to commanding lows, willing to carry even a shadow of threat, rustling the hem of his cloak as he breaks the first boundary of their unspoken distance, taking a step closer. “With the way I am treated in my domain, I must take this as a direct declaration of war from the Empire.”

“Then I see it as my duty to ask you to give your thoughts another turn. Like deep waters of Nile, you can let a different channel flow, looking toward peace.”

“Peace,” Pharaoh exhales almost contemptuously, his tilt casting a shadow over Omega's form and obscuring him from the flickering glow of candlelight. Touching him in that way, too - at least with his shadow. “You speak of peace, but you make me want to start a war. For you.”

His features don't flinch, as if day after day the rulers are ready to throw world domination at his bare feet. Georgian softens in his gaze, tilting his head so that the fall of his curls to the side beckons Pharaoh even closer to him.

“If you truly desire me, son of Ra, you will make every effort to see peace prevail. War is easy, it requires weakness of a character. Peace asks for strength.”

Alpha's nostrils flare in greedy wisps of Omega's sweet scent, Lewis sees no impediment to putting his hands on him, pressing him close and planting him on the armrest of his throne, having him, losing himself in him, but Georgian is not something he can easily get his hands on. Omega grabs a hunch of his movements and shuffles aside, leaving the cold white stone of the column for the man's greedy palms instead of his skin. He retreats into the depths of the room with a gait not inferior in the slightest to the grace of his nature already so temptingly on display for Pharaoh.

“I see the way you look at me,” he says, even the flutter of his lashes from the wary glance over his shoulder calculated to the last detail. “But I am the bearer of nothing of yours. Until I do so, your hands can't claim what isn't theirs yet.”

Lewis closes his eyes, clenching fist against the wall and transferring the strength of his muscles to ground himself in dignity, to keep from falling into the shameful abyss of intoxicating power and authority.

“Very well,” he turns his back to the balcony, dancing his steps on the borders of proximity to Omega. No one has caught his breath with such bold defiance before, he would not have found another of such a spirit of openness and honesty if he had traversed the conquered lands with his army again a dozen times. “I will bathe you in every fiber of me. I will give you the finest robes, I will wrap you in the choicest silks, you will wear the greatest of Egypt's gifts, each one that pleases your eye. Rose quartz, turquoise lapis lazuli, the rarest of the treasures of my lands, things that no one can give you but Pharaoh. And then, by letting them become part of what adorns your being, you will know that you belong to me.”

Omega smiles knowingly at him, tangling his fingers in the ties of his belt. He didn't even falter for a second, as calm and collected as he was, whereas even the most noble Omegas of Egypt would have fallen into the ruler's bed without any resistance. Still, none of them had still managed to become his Queen.

“Belonging has very little to do with being bestowed with silks or treasures. I may wear them if they please me. But that will not make me yours.”

Lewis felt something that was unfamiliar to him even in the moments when he had been closer to death than life, holding the cold metal of the sword in his hands - a shiver tickling his fingers. He gazed intensely at Omega, studying every curve of his shape, seeing the imprints of his lips everywhere around him, not there yet, but in his dreams Georgian no longer had anything of Rome, only the gifts of Egypt on his shoulders.

“I'll let intentions speak louder,” Pharaoh was trapped between the delicate rise of his collarbones, letting out a shuddering breath. “I will make everything from my possessions yours. And then, precious Omega, we will have our bodies to speak for us. Not the trembling and fallacy of our words.”

A stirring blossoms with noise from the hallways, denoting that there is still life beyond the door of these chambers. Lewis steps toward the entrance, catching every flutter of his eyelashes following his steady steps.

“I cannot deny hope,” Georgian lingers him in the open passageway. “But I wish to talk to you at length, since I find such great pleasure in the way you speak, Pharaoh.”

[besaya-glantaya]

While the previous exorcism was fairly sucessful, new brain gremlins appear with repeated rewatches. So, here's another incomplete list of my rambling thoughts and favourite moments from the Red White and Royal Blue movie:

1. Breaking doors down to get a wedding cake through - actually a thing that happened. Well, almost. Prince William and Kate Middleton's gigantic 8-tier wedding cake was so large a palace door had to be removed to allow it through. Apparently the Queen was "unimpressed".

2. Henry snubbing Alex in the reception line at the wedding is hilarious. Way to ensure Alex doesn't fixate on you for the whole party, Henry. A+ job.

3. Alex drunkly navigating the wedding reception, swiping drinks, petting rich people and hiding foul smelling canapés behind furniture. Adorably comedic.

4. HeNnrrYyy!

5. Aww. I wanna see pictures of Jonathan the Shih Tzu too.

6. Shaan's scathingly dry wit is everything - I can see why he's such a great match for Zahra.

7. "No-one is more mystified than I" is another phrase I am stealing for people who exist purely to vex me.

8. Shaan shoving Alex bodily through the low hanging branches of a chestnut tree to stand beside Henry for a photo op. That had to be at least partially improvised on location.

9. Dogs in jumpers. This must be some British thing that I have simply failed to notice. Is this a thing Americans associate with the UK?

10. The ridiculously small child's costume that Alex is wearing for the puppet show in the hospital.

11. Alex saying "WRONG!"

12. Henry, on the phone, opening with "Good God, man, what have you done?" Honestly, is there any other response when your crush sends you a picture of a caged turkey, in their bedroom, in the small hours of the morning?

13. Nora strutting into the NYE party in that head turning, jaw dropping, red outfit. Stunning.

14. Henry's face after Alex tells him he's going to do "very bad things to him". Every single fantasy he's ever had about him and Alex is flashing rapid-fire through his brain and he just... overloads a lil' bit. Error code 54 [NETWORK_BUSY].

15. The emotional connection between Alex and Henry when they are making love in Paris. The eye contact, the unspoken communication. Ugh. Hats off to all involved - especially Robbie Taylor, the movie's intimacy coordinator - for creating this scene.

16. Alex, talking about being someone his father never had: "You can't know what that means." Henry responding with a heartfelt "I'm learning". Just... yes. All the yes.

17. In the mood for love might be one of the swooniest movies of all time, but it's heartbreakingly sad. It's a doomed romance - two people who are irrevocably in love but can't be together, trapped as they are by the pressures of societal expectations and their own psychological barriers. That this is a version of romance that Henry holds dear is telling and painful to think about.

18. Alex's bloodshot eyes when he's laying on his bed with Nora, hugging that cushion for dear life, pining hard for Henry. Did they do that scene after another intense emotional one? Were there lots of other teary takes of that same scene? Did they rub onions in Taylor's eyes? I need to know.

19. I often think that the core of who we are as teenagers - our hopes, our desires, the things we cherish - are the beings we settle back into as older adults after we're done trying to fit in or live up to other people's expectations. One of Alex's greatest gifts is helping Henry to reach out and reclaim those seemingly distant hopes and dreams. To dance with the person he loves, in a place of beauty that brings him peace.

20. I love the Perfume Genius cover of "Can't help falling in love". It hits you squarely in the feels.

21. God, the casting of this movie was a stroke of genius. Taylor and Nicholas truly become Alex and Henry on screen.

22. On the private air-field: Henry's little overwhelmed smile when Alex squeezes him in the tightest hug and tells him, "I love you, I'll be as patient as you need."

23. Immediately after 22, Alex leaning in for a kiss goodbye but pulling back quickly as he reads Henry's discomfort. Alex might not always understand Henry's reasons but (if he's paying attention), he's so very good at reading Henry's needs and responding to them.

24. In the aftermath of the email leak, Alex has been "hanging in there" - he's had people supporting him, with agency over how to respond. But Henry is understandably not OK - he's been put back in his box, and the Firm has taken over in all matters. There's one scene where you can see Henry shrinking, literally making himself take up less space at the table.  Poor baby.

25. Zahra to the rescue. Truly the MVP.

[ancat-dubh]

Definitely in the midst (aftermath?) of a big Paradigm Shift, which I've had at least two or three of since starting my practice. Last year the god felt like storms in October and blue-slate clouds rolling over the hedge, too raw and awesome to feel like a person; before that, a prehistoric ancestor who spoke cipher-like and stilted through my tarot, almost too far removed to be legible. At the moment he's close to the surface, like another part of myself. I find myself looking for him in childhood memories of games I'd play with imaginary friends, slipping between speaking as them and myself and feeling my whole body change for it.

I know the land (and the p/People) where I work well enough to walk there at night, which is also something I imagined doing as a little kid growing up in the woods under my own witchy steam. I've done it pretty often for three years and it's deeply magical every time, kind of an Otherworld pilgrimage. It's intense enough, too, that sometimes I'm simply too unwell for it – the dark woods make my brain itch and if I don't listen to my gut and turn back I start tripping over my own feet at shadows. But it's also been a not-insignificant healing practice, learning when to push myself to blend into the trees and, sometimes, reminding myself that I am the most powerful, frightening animal in the woods. That I can let my guard down and play in the expansiveness of the dark; certainly, that I have allies who won't be fucked with.

Last night I went deliberately to the deepest part of the wood, which after a spliff and my deep meditative slow trance-walking slides into the Otherworld. I turned off the bridge with the full moon dark behind a heavy cloud and stepped into actual blackness, spiderweb strands hitting my closed eyelids. I can step reliably enough that no branches hit my extended forearm protecting my face, but I took my time anyway treading lightly. The sensation of attention snapping my way on this side of the bridge always feels like a huge intake of breath from somewhere very deep.

Sometimes the sensation unnerves me but last night I felt deep calm, nodding hello to the great silhouetted hullk of the Grandmother Tree and noticing a spell from my to-do list sliding to the front of my mind. This kind of intuitive working feels characteristic of whatever's going on for me Paradigm Shift Wise – like I've got some navigation and safety tools, built up over years and lots of trial and error, and now I can really roll my sleeves up and work.

At the Hollow Tree, the very centre of the deepest part of the wood, I laid offerings, made a clear request, accepted what was offered immediately and clearly in return. I sat back on her fallen companion log listening to the season-change humming up from the earth and warp-amplifying the sound of every fallen twig, paw-step, and distant bicycle. Glowing silver strips pulsed and crept across the muddy path strangely enough that it took me a while to notice the moon had lifted from the cloud. The noise and sensation became briefly deafening. I rarely sit still when they arrive but the god reached through to steady me: it’s okay. Listen, watch, react sensibly to what you observe. You’re not the first person on this land I’ve taught this; the Tree knows the stories of the ones who came before. Some of them you already know. Pay attention.

I heard the fox – or was it? Hard to say what the messenger becomes on an Otherworld full moon – before I saw him. He circled just out of the moonlight so details blurred in the Tree's shadow; I could only get the vague melting shape and trotting rustle-sound of him. His face, muzzle, even his white tail-tip evaded me even as I could feel the little precise jolt of his whole regard shift onto me and away. It'd been a little while but I wasn't surprised to see him. This is how I know I'm co-working, that my offerings have been accepted and a healthy mutual curiosity acknowledged. Without seeing, I could feel him studying me and trotting the inner bounds of the clearing. I kept my movement slow and my voice steady. As soon as he went away, a man with a white dog appeared out of the dark and the dog went into a little frenzy circling the Tree, nose furious to the ground. The man called to the dog in French, increasingly frustrated until I spoke up to explain, something I wouldn't usually do but I felt calm enough to say: il y avait un renard ici. He laughed and managed to catch the dog by the collar, and it lunged and barked at me as they went.

Until recently I've been puzzled and hurt by dogs lifting their hackles at me so often in the woods, startling their owners – it startles me too, when I love dogs and they're usually all over me on the street. Recently the god suggested it's because when I'm in it I act like a wild animal, sliding from town- to woods-body language in a way that's confusing to animals who pay close attention to human-scripts. I know he's close under my skin when I start noticing that in myself; when I pause in the middle of a grove to sniff and listen, twist my head around sharply and ease back when a twig cracks, slide myself behind a tree so a passing jogger doesn’t startle catching me in his headlamp. I feel less inclined to make a friendly reassuring noise or awkward greeting to someone I meet out in the dark – so what if they think I'm weird, they're out here like me and everyone acts weird at night. Instead, I catch myself learning to make eye contact with crows so they'll watch for my tossed fruit, knowing how to get a fox to come closer by turning my head ninety degrees away.

I finally put the offered tool in my bag and took my time coming back over the hill, closing out the working with a Neighbourly goodbye and quick cleanse at the Boundary Trees before I headed towards the road. The owls who’d greeted me on the way into the woods called distant on my way out. The god, who’d taken a back seat beneath my skin in the deepest part of the woods, slid forward naturally to chat and approve: this is how you do it. There you go. I told you I’d show you when you were ready.

[bluesey-182]

thinking about some 2025 reading goals i want to accomplish. for one thing i want to really discipline myself to follow through on my previous (failed) goal of only buying one book per every five that i read (currently debating if i want to count library books or just books that i own. both would keep my spending down, but only one will get my physical tbr down faster, so we shall see). i also want to focus more on getting back to what i love, which is epic fantasy. giant tomes of books full of quests and magic and a fuckton of words i won't pronounce correctly, and that sometimes take me weeks to read. i need to stop prioritizing short books that will help me meet some arbitrary reading goal of x amount of books. i've also spent the last few years branching out and trying new genres and last year was incredible and full of so many amazing reads, but this year sucked ass and was full of books that i hated and disappointed me over and over and over again, so i think it's time to take a break from exploring and get back to what made me love reading so much. cause after such a bad reading year i've been questioning if i even REALLY love reading anymore, and that just won't do. but that brings me to my next goal: i have to learn how to DNF more. i can't keep pushing myself through on some hope it will get better, or bc it was a book i got in a book box and i feel like i have to read the whole thing "just in case" it suddenly gets better at the end so i won't regret selling it, or because i need talking points for bookclub. i need to get better at just putting the bad books down. it's okay, girl. there's too many other things to read. i also just... really need to fucking stop reading romantasy. i don't like the genre, I've never liked the genre, it's time to give up the ghost and stop giving the genre soooo many goddamn chances (also literally just found out the saying isn't "give up the goat" so i'm glad i googled that and also that this is my first attempt at using it. that would've been embarrassing). but since i stopped using tiktok earlier this year i think that'll help...de-inluence my reading and keep way more romantasy off my radar. i'm also wondering if my reading journal situation needs to change. i used to enjoy writing short reviews for books just for myself to read, and it was sometimes helpful to look back on when i was reading series as a refresher before diving into the next book, but i'm finding that i'm getting burned out on doing that, so i'm not sure if i'll carry on with that just yet. i also would love to get back to bingeing series. i feel like i've gotten so bad at reading series in the past few years because there's always something else i feel like i need to be reading instead, so i read book one and don't go any further and i'm over that. and the last thing I'm thinking about is the numbered reading goal. i used to read on average 50 books a year, and then a few years ago i started challenging myself to read 10 more books than i did the previous year, and then i suddenly read 120 books in one year, blowing my actual goal out of the water, and figured i'd just keep the goal at 100 a year from now on... but then i hit this current year where too many bad reads put me into an 8 month reading slump and i hate the stress of trying to reach that goal, so i'm thinking i need to just do away with the set number of books goal completely or just drop it back down to 50 and then feel like a god when i surpass it. cause i'm burned out on how much that goals ends up dictating what i read.

[bdmemnun]

was working in blender all day today, and at like 11:30 at night i accidentally hit a button I shouldn't have and I knew I shouldn't have, because it's the Crash Blender button (was retopoing a model from 1.4m verts down to something less akin to waterboarding my gpu). and I reopen blender and I'm like "yeah it's panic but surely blender has autosaves, right? worst case scenario I've lost the last 15 minutes." and I hit the Recover Last Session button and it has the GALL to tell me "backup not found." so I'm like, sure, I'll just reload the file and have a bit more work ahead of me- and I realize. I haven't saved. all fucking day. 15+ hours of my life. gone from this earth. so I go online to find out how to enable autosaves, and turns out I was right the first time, it does have! but it saves it to a folder that's stored in RAM. that thing that got emptied when blender crashed. and like, I get why that's not a high priority for the devs, because the equivalent folder IS saved to disk on windows, but linux fucks it and the community can't decide where they'd rather put it, which means we're stuck with the useless backup feature that also will slowly clog your ram and crash your computer just for leaving blender up. so I decide I will learn at this point basically the entirety of the blender plugin API and make my own damn autosave that works better than stock, and I get that bitch working in less than 3 hours. not saying I fell out the tism tree and hit every branch on the way down, but I am like unto a god. anyways if any other 3d artists want an autosave plugin that saves your backups next to the actual god damn file rather than buried in some esoteric hidden folder, lemme know and I'll figure out how to attach scripts to tumblr posts I guess

[intheseautumnhands]

29, 32, 76, 89 talk about them!

29. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic, Sleeping at Last

This is another one mostly here due to writing playlists -- Sleeping at Last and Vitamin String Quartet are basically my default writing music the last couple of years. I like this cover a lot, it's very sweet, but I can't say I have much more to say about it than that. XD

32. The Cult of Dionysius, The Orion Experience

I think this originally showed up at a different spot? But I logged on the next day and the playlist had been almost completely shuffled around for some reason. I don't think I hit anything, but here we are. Anyway -- this would be much, much higher if you could somehow chart all the music I listened to this year, because I defaulted for months to pulling this up first-thing on youtube as a way to wake up and start work.

Favorite lyric: Or start a secret society for the wild and free Our ideology is you can do what you want Too much is never enough We are the light, we are the life We are the envy of the gods above

76. Wild Blue Yonder, The Amazing Devil

I am surprised more TAD songs aren't getting hit, because I did listen to them on a lot of writing playlists this year -- the sound works for me for Blades fic, which is, well, most of what I wrote this year. XD (I also listened to them for fun a lot, but mostly on Bandcamp; most of what's on Spotify was either writing or chores music.)

Favorite lyric: Let's hide under the covers, we don't know what's out there-- Could be all our demons, darling

89. Holy Branches, Radical Face

I loooooove this song. The only reason this song is so low is because I CAN'T put it on too many writing playlists because I WILL stop and listen to it almost every time. I love it even more since learning the characters behind it, but the song itself has always given me chills. The lyrics and the sound of it both.

Creatively, I really want a Jack-and-Lock centric Lost fanvid to this, but generally I just. fucking love it.

Favorite lyric: it is so hard to pick because it's most of the song, but either: "But everybody's bones are just holy branches Cast from trees to cut patterns in the world And in time we find some shelter Spill our leaves, and then sleep in the earth And when we're there, we'll belong Cause the Earth don't give a damn if you're lost"

or

"Trace your fingers down my spine Make your home behind my eyes Line my skull with harmless lies I'll bide my time until I'm something they want"

( Spotify Wrapped asks: give a number, get a song + babble )

[detroitbecomeyandere]

Oh my god, that part two was so good. What would happen if you tried to escape the island somehow?

I'm so glad you enjoyed it! I just want to keep writing for them but I have other things I really want to do for this month, I'll probably come back to them at some point. (If anyone is good at naming things what should we name the pod?)

The only way you could escape is if by some miracle you managed to find enough materials to build a raft and something to store food and water in. You spent weeks inside the forest crafting it, though you still have to make some appearances at the beach so the mermen don't get to suspicious. You decide to set out at night, you know dolphins sleep with half of their brain active but you aren't sure about the mermen. You decide to chance it so you pretend to go to sleep on the leaf bed you made on the beach, laying there hours just watching the shoreline until you see no sign of them. Even then you wait a bit longer, your anxiety almost talks you out of your plan but you do your best to swallow the fear and push yourself up. Despite there being no way they could hear you you still walk as quietly as possible, the first thing you do is drag your raft to the edge of the beach. Feeling more confident you run back and haul your water and food to the raft and get it into the water, you push off with the flat piece of wood you found and use it to paddle out of the bay.

While you were no sailor you could still use the stars to navigate your way home, when you got back you'd have to call up your ex and thank him for making you learn the skill along with him. Following the North star you paddle as hard as you can just trying to put as much distance between yourself and the island as possible. You paddle for hours only stopping when your arms feel like they are wet noodles, pulling the branch out of the water you lay back and watch the stars. The sound of soft waves splashing against your raft lull you to sleep.

A loud thump wakes you, you sit up just as something else hits the raft. Your pulse spikes as you clutch the paddle to your chest, god you hoped that was a shark and not who you think it was. More thumps sound and you hear splashes coming from all sides of you, then a hand shoots out of the water soon after the body follows it. Cyrus launches out of the water and claws his way across towards you the anger in his face on full display in the moonlight, before you can even think about it you swing the paddle and smack his across his face. Blood pours from his nose as he lunges for your ankle, with nowhere to go you stand up and try to back away as far as you could but all you do is tip the raft and send yourself crashing into the dark water.

You surface and franticly look around for Cyrus but find him nowhere so you try and make it back to the raft, the paddle forgotten as you scramble to get out of the water. A cold hand wraps around your ankle and with a shriek you are plunged back into the icy water, he pulls you deeper and deeper. Struggling in his grip you try to pull yourself free but Cyrus digs his nails into your skin. Your lungs are on fire as the last of your oxygen runs out, your thrashing stops as black spots start to dot your vision. Looking up you see the fading moonlight, closing your eyes your final thought is "Well... this is one way to escape."

The first thing you feel is pressure on your chest, then the pain kicks in. Every breath you take in burns and you choke on it, you try to roll over and cough up whatever water was left in your lungs but the pressure on your top of you doesn't budge. Your eyes crack open to see what's holding you down and panic when you see the sleeping merman on top of you. From the freckles on his shoulders you can tell it was Connor and not Cyrus, for which you thanked God for. Gently lifting your head up you see that he has pulled your dress down to your waist and is nuzzled into your breasts, you notice you are still on the raft but moving faster than if just the water were guiding you. Closing your eyes you to try to hold back your tears, knowing they are taking you back to that damned island.

[prodtrouver]

➾ The Criminal Who Loved

All he could do is run, hide, and live. He couldn't go to the town and always hid himself. After such accusation were made, the only person who could clear him is his brother, but he isn't there for him. What if a criminal finds a fairy who doesn't know him? What if he learns to love? Only for him to fear that will be taken away.

Pairing: runaway prince!Mark Lee x half fairy fem!reader

Other characters: mentions of Fairy!Renjun, Elf! Yeonjun and Huening Kai, Prince!Jeno, Baker!Haechan,

Genre/warnings: angst, fluff, running away, mentions of poison, mentions of traps,

No. of Words: 4.3k

The day felt longer than it was. The woods are quiet today which calmed you. The clouds that covered the blue sky, the strong breeze that was weakened by the tall trees; it was a long but peaceful day so far.

The flowers were gently plucked out from the ground to your basket. Your touch was so gentle, the other fairies found it amusing they couldn't feel it.

"Y/n! What do you think of today? Won't you go to the town?" A purple fairy sat on your shoulder. A soft smile on your lips as you softly shook your head. You gave her a dandelion,

"I have more important things to finish. I have no business in town," you softly spoke. You stood from the ground and begin to head back to your fellow fairies who took care of you.

Yes, you're a fairy, a half at least. You were trusted in their care, full of hopes you will protect them because you're one of the two who are human sized.

"Y/n is back! Y/n is back!" A tiny young fairy fled to you. Her small figure around your figure as you gently out the basket down for them.

"Yes, I'm back... Where is Renjun?" You asked, instantly while distracted, they pointed their fingers to the direction where the other is. You smiled, stood, and fixed your dress. "I will be back."

You searched for Renjun, the second fairy who protects the rest. The boy's pretty eyes are glued to the cloudy sky. He's the fairy who paints the skies, the truth to the saying of their world: 'Gods or Deities are responsible for the colors of the sky.'

"Why is Painter Fairy staring at his masterpiece today?" Immediately, he turned around to face you. A slightly serious expression on his pretty face.

"Y/n, there is this boy in this woods. He found the old cabin of your father. He lives there now," he said. Your eyes widen; A boy? Living in the cabin you grew up in?

"Who is this boy, Renjun? Is he bad?" You asked, your nervousness seen yet mostly covered by your courage.

"No, he is not. I could tell he is accused of something. Fear not, I will be here if you confront him." He patted your shoulder. You softly nodded your head, your heartbeat was rapid from the thoughts. Is the boy dangerous? Renjun said he could tell he was accused, what could it be?

"Y/n, you know what to do when you need me.",

You watched from a far as the boy exited the cabin. He combed his hazel hair with his hand as he sat on the stairs of the cabin. He looked at the dead leaves on the ground, his eyes glued there while his expression showed a troubled expression.

He stood on his feet again, he looked around, but your presence remained unknown to him. He returned inside the cabin and locked the door. You moved away from the tree and closer to the cabin. The boy was handsome, almost like a prince.

The way the sun glistened on his face. His shiveled hazel hair that reached his eyes lashes. He looked like a normal human and from his aura that you could feel, he is one. You placed your hand on the cabin wall but something else reflected light on your face.

You turned your head on the side, only to see a sheathed sword. You felt your heart freeze then you heard the door open.

There you are, standing in front of the human boy who looked surprised to see you. He glanced at his sword before he looked at you again. Immediately and by instincts, you backed away. Your figure was shaking and it was visible to his eyes.

"Do you... Live in this cabin?" He asked softly, and made sure you won't be terrified of him. However, he doubted that you live in the cabin for there was dust everywhere when he found it.

You, on the other hand, was still shaking. Your hand stayed close to your chest as you were ready to call Renjun for help. He observed your figure, you had h/c that matched your eyes. You looked magical yet mysterious to his vision.

"I won't hurt you, I swear," he said and moved a but closer. "Do you live in this cabin?" He asked and you nodded. His expression showed how surprised he is... He didn't expect that...

"But not anymore," you said with the left over courage you had. The more you stare at him, the more gentle he looks. You hoped he could say his name faster and as if he could read your mind-,

"My name is Mark Lee, I won't hurt you, don't worry.... Unless, you're one of them." He softly glared which made you take a step back. Judging from you acted just now, you aren't. Anyway, he knows his kingdom doesn't accept female guards nor assassins.

"Are you harmful? What's your objective? What are you doing here?" You asked but he just stared at you. "That's none of your business," he coldly said before he gets inside.

You know curiosity could be bad sometimes but the further you observe Mark, the more perks you notice of him.

The way he scrunched his nose when he couldn't do anything in one try or the way he clapped his hands when he successfully did something difficult. He's a funny and dorky boy, not to mention the way he treated animals is gentle as well.

You sat on the tree branch, your eyes glued on the boy who's feeding baby squirrels. You were surprised, amused with how beautiful the land has become when he came.

The dead leaves are gone, the pond beside the cabin looked cleaner. Flowers of different kinds are even blooming around the cabin. You never knew you would see this sight again of your old home.

However, other than his dorky side, he looks strong and cautious. You found it weird how he looks around every hour as if he's being hunted. You feel attached with the boy, even if it has only been days since you first talked to him.

"How is watching the boy, y/n?" An elf climbed in your shoulder and sat down. You gave him a sliced apple you have before you looked at Mark again.

"He isn't harmful, he takes care of the area very well. The animals loves him too," you smiled and the elf squinted his eyes.

"Don't be too distracted, y/n! He might be dangerous! Maybe, he knows you're watching, and acts nice, so you will think he's not dangero-,"

"Oh, quiet, Yeonjun. If he knew I'm watching then I'm pretty sure he would've talked to me or stopped me already. Therefore, do not overthink," you spat and left the tiny elf pouty and speechless.

"Maybe you should talk to him, y/n!" Another elf showed themself, this time he had a purple hat while Elf Yeonjun had orange.

"Should I?" You asked Elf Huening Kai who nodded. Yeonjun pulled your hair and shouted a 'no'.

"I think the boy there needs someone to be friends with!"

"I think the boy there deserves to be left alone!" Yeonjun said, grumpier from your words earlier. The two elves countinued to bicker while you take matters in your feet.

"Hold tight, little ones," you said and you begin to fidget. They immediately held onto your hair while you jumped down the tall tree. The elves screamed in fear, both afraid of heights while you kept a smile on your face.

As soon as your feet hit the leafy ground, Mark turned around. The surprised boy stared at you as he wondered where you came from.

"Y/n! Don't do that!!" He heard a voice from your shoulders. You chuckled and carefully get off the two elves who were shaking. You placed them on the wood railings of your old cabin while you looked at Mark.

"I'm impressed, you managed to make this lifeless are blossom again!" You said, you sweet smile distracted Mark from his wonders for a split second.

"Ah, yeah- wait, how did you- where did you come from?" He asked, his shocked expression still in his face. Quietly, you pointed at the tall tree where you sat.

"EH- You wouldn't be able to survive that fall!" Mark shouted and caused you to flinch.

"Hey, you big man! Yes, she can because our precious y/n is a half fairy! She can land on her feet like a cat!" Yeonjun pointed at Mark who looked even more shocked.

"Wow... Elves are real or is it a potion you drank?" Mark leaned closer to look at the 2 elves. Instantly, Yeonjun tried to punch his eye with his tiny fist but he was stopped by Huening Kai.

"I'm sorry, he can be feisty," the other elf apologizes while Yeonjun tries to get out of his grip. You sigh which caught his Mark's attention.

"I apologize for the little elf's behalf. Despite his small figure, he is pretty feisty. The gods made the right choice of making him an elf." You said and glared at Yeonjun who looked defeated.

Mark just laughed, still fascinated by the elves and you? A half fairy? He never even knew they exist until now.

"May I come in? I missed this place," you asked boldly, even though it's unknown where you got this confidence from. Mark thought for a few seconds but remembered, the cabin used to be your home.

"Sure,"

"Y/n! We're going with you!" Yeonjun shouted, only to be flicked on the forehead by you. Elf Huening Kai tried to hold his laughter while Yeonjun stayed pouty.

"I'll be back," you said and followed Mark inside the cabin. The cabin isn't really small but it isn't really big either. It was a decent size for a small family. She was in awe, it felt like she was living her past memories once more.

Mostly everything is still the same but certain things have been moved. Mark's gaze followed you as you looked around. The strings of his heart were pulled when a smile appeared in your pink lips.

You looked so happy and relieved, he didn't want to ruin it by calling your name. You mentioned you once lived there, you must have missed the cabin.

Now, he begins to wonder- do you know? Do you have an idea who he even is? Do you know what he did that caused him to stay here? He didn't want you to know, he didn't want to danger you nor your kind.

"Can I go upstairs?" You asked and he nodded. You immediately head upstairs while Mark stayed.

"Hey, you big man! Who are you? Where did you come from!?" He looked down to see Elf Yeonjun and Huening Kai behind him, trying to stop the older from speaking further.

"Yeonjun, stop it!" Huening Kai held the elf's arm. Mark kneeled down to look at the elves.

"I'm a runaway," Mark admitted, and this surprised the elves. Yeonjun stopped moving and Huening Kai's grip became lighter.

"I'm a runaway from the kingdom," he said once more. Yeonjun took a step back and shielded Huening Kai. Fear on the elf's face as he remembered what his fellow elf told him once.

"Are you the runaway who tried to poiso-,"

"Mark! Thank you for letting me in," you went back downstairs. You halted your steps in confusion when you saw the Yeonjun cowering in fear and a confused Huening Kai behind him.

"What's going on?" You asked, Mark shook his head as he quickly looked away.

"No problem, however, I think it's better if you three head back. Night is about to come, it might be too dangerous for you." Mark smiled and passed by you as he head to the bedroom upstairs.

You nodded, although he couldn't see you. He gently places Yeonjun and Huening Kai on your shoulders.

"Why do you look scared, Yeonjun?" You asked but he only shook his head.

"I saw a giant spider behind Mark earlier, so I got scared!" Yeonjun believably lied which made Huening Kai believe in him too.

Shortly, you left the area and head back home.

You walked down the busy streets of the town. A basket on your arm as you head to your favorite bakery. However, on your way there, you saw a few castle guards asking the townspeople.

"Excuse me, young miss," you flinched. You looked to your side, only to see a castle guard.

"Have you see the first prince?" The guard showed you a paper. A paper with Mark Lee drawn below the word: wanted.

Your eyes quickly scanned through the whole paper. Words like 'first prince' or 'attempted to poison the king' or 'ran away'... They all shocked you. Is that what Renjun meant? Is he accused or really did this?

"No, I did not but may I keep the flyer, sir?" You asked softly. Your heart shattering with the news but you didn't understand why. You watched Mark for days and he didn't seem harmful. You needed to know the answer. The guard accepted your request and gave you the flyer.

"Thank You," you mumbled and began to walk away. You forget about the bread, you want to talk to Mark about the truth.

You went back to the woods, away from the guards, away from the town, and on your way to find Mark. The trip took time but you were determined to get the truth out.

You felt your surroundings stop when you saw Mark. He looked so happy when he fed the baby squirrels and the way he chuckled when a parrot sat on his head. You asked yourself again: did he really try to do that?

"Mark," you called him from behind. He turned to face you, a smile on his lips while you looked sad and confused.

"Mark, did you... Did you really try to poison... Poison the king?" You asked, your voice as soft as a whisper. Mark stood still, his smile disappeared from his lips, and it was replaced with a frown.

"You really think I would do that?" He asked, the bowl on his palm was still full of bird seeds.

"I-I don't know, Mark... I barely know you..." You said and Mark slowly walked towards you.

"I was accused, y/n. I don't want to kill my own father. I was accused because they saw the bottle in my bedroom. I ran away, y/n... I ran away because I was scared," his frown never seemed to leave his face. You felt your heart break at how weak and broken his voice sounded.

"How should I know... How can you prove to me that you are innocent?" You didn't have the will to take a step back but he stood so close to you. He delicately took your hand and placed it in his chest.

"I saw a book in the bedroom of the cabin. It said that fairies, even half fairies can tell if people are lying by their pulse. If it's uneven, they are lying. Is my pulse uneven, y/n?" He asked which shocked you. You knew that but never got to experience it.

You close your eyes, suddenly, everything felt silent. You could only hear his heartbeat and it didn't feel uneven. Instantly, a relieving wave washed over your worries. You pulled your hand back as you stared at Mark.

"You... You're not lying," you say and Mark let out a soft chuckle.

"Why would I lie?" He said and you hugged him immediately. He was shocked about your actions but tilted his head when you pulled away.

"How are you going to clear your name? You're not even a criminal!" You spat, angrily. A pout on your lips while the frown was back on his face.

"My brother... Lee Jeno could clear my name because he was with me the whole day the incident happened. He helped me run away as well. If there's someone who could clear my name, it is him," Mark said and everything went silent.

The woods strong breeze weakened by the tall trees again. Birds chirped above you both while little animals played on the leafy ground.

You want Mark's name to be cleared, although you don't know why you're suddenly feeling like this.

A week have passed and everything was peaceful. You felt at peace with Mark, even other fairies and elves loved him.

Here you are with him, both sat on the blanket as you played with the animals and fairies around you two. You feel so close with Mark as if he has been your friend for a long time.

Although, it gave you feelings that you've never experienced before. You have read about it and it's the feeling of love.

They say a fairy who is in love could feel how quick their heart beats. They could hear the thumps of their in love heart. Mostly, they definitely feel safer and stronger with them. Although, you never really showed your magic in front of anyone, other than Renjun, and a potion maker.

"Y/n, you said that you used to live in this cabin. Why did you move out?" Mark asked you as he fed the young fox. You frowned and looked away at the horrendous memory that served as your nightmare.

"My mom was caught and my father was killed," you said, able to trust Mark with your past. Mark stiffned as he looked at you. The sad and pitiful expression on your face was heartbroing for him to look at.

"My mom was a fairy, she was trapped by some mere castle servant for the king. My dad chased after her, only to be killed in the process. I never knew what they did to my mother but the fairies could tell her presence is no longer in this world." You told Mark, your heart wrenched at the vision a potion maker once showed you.

The vision of how they trapped your mother and how they killed you father. It was traumatizing and it served a horrible memory to replay after years.

"I'm sorry... I didn't know that. All I knew was that my father hated fairies. I don't know why but my mother told us, brothers that fairies are just found in books. That's why, I never knew they existed," Mark said and gently patted your back for reassurance.

"I'm very sure they are in a place where they could rest peacefully. I am also sure that they are happy of their daughter growing healthy." Mark smiled which caused you to smile as well. You close your eyes and rest your head in his shoulder.

How could you tell him you're in love with a prince? With an accused prince who is known as a criminal? How can you tell your people and Mark Lee that?

"Y/n, if I return back to the castle, will you go with me?" He asked you and you felt your heart stop for a second. You open your eyes and stare at the boy. His warm brown eyes stared into yours as you think of an answer.

"Why should I go with you, Mark? You are a prince, I am a half fairy who has her village to protect." You softly spoke and once again, the dreaded frown appears on his lips.

"You're right... But what if my name never gets cleared?"

"It will be cleared eventually, Mark. People will know the truth," you said as he took your warm hand. Your soft hand grasping his rough ones. He pressed it over his chest.

"I like you, y/n... Ever since I told you the truth, I feel safer with you. I feel happier with you and I'm afraid that might be taken away from me as well." He cries and you feel your body shake. Immediately, you engulfed the boy in a hug.

"I won't be taken away, Mark. I like you too," you whispered and Mark pulled you closer to him. You smiled in his embrace as he caressed your cheeks.

"Fairy Y/n, will you do the honors of being with the oldest prince of the Dream Kingdom?" He stood up and reached his hand out towards you. You laughed and held his hand before you did a small courtesy.

"Of course, Prince Mark,"

It was midnight when you begin to feel weird. The boy was sleeping peacefully beside you, however, you aren't sure if you could stay any longer. You quietly rushed out of the cabin to warn everyone.

You waved your hand, pile of leaves flying a certain direction to call Renjun. You gently knocked on the trees until a bird comes out.

"Check what is coming," you whispered before it flew away. You turn around, whispering to the small animals to hide for their safety. You looked around throughly, in search for a fairy ring you could control.

"Y/n, I'm here- what do you need?" Renjun asked as he stood beside you. You pointed at the direction that was giving you weird feelings.

"I could feel men walking, a group of them but not many," you said as Renjun nodded. He waved his hand, the same thing you did but this time, the wind became stronger. It couldn't be stopped by the tall trees anymore.

He held onto your wrist, not interested in making you fly away.

"Y/n, can you extend the fairy rings?" Renjun asked as he kept the wind at the same strength. You used the rest of your energy for that day to extend the rings.

Suddenly, the bird arrived and stood on your shoulder. It begin to whisper about what it saw.

"Renjun, the guards left and only two are coming. Those 2 are the princes of the kingdom," you said and Renjun sighed. He stopped the strong wind, only to face you. He patted your head,

"I will be near when you need me. I will be watching from above," he stated before jumping on tree to another. The bird quickly fled after him. You stood there, on your guard as you wait for the 2 princes to come... They must be here for Mark.

"Are you y/n?" You jolted your head up and in your sight, you saw them. Both on their tall white horses as you nod their head.

"I'm Jeno and this is my younger brother, Jisung... I heard from a fairy that our older brother is here, may we see him-,"

"No need, I'm here now," you slightly flinched once you heard Mark's deep voice after woken up.

"Mark, we have evidence!" Jisung said, about to take a step until he saw the line of mushrooms in front of him. "A fairy ring, interesting," he leaned down and saw glitters around each mushroom.

"Jisung, don't get distracted now-"

"I know, I know- actually, why won't you tell him the good news?" Jisung smiled as he looked left and right to see where the ring formed. Jeno sighed at the attention span of his brother.

"We got the poison's bottle checked by a witch. The fingerprints on the bottle belonged to a woman elf. The witch also stated that these kinds of poison could only be brewed by witches and wizards." Jeno explained as you look at Mark for any reaction on his face.

"How will you explain this to father and the kingdom? They will think you're only doing this to cover my 'crime' and not everyone believes in witches and wizards. I think, you guys are lucky you even found one," Mark said but you shook your head.

"Witches and wizards are common if you are in the right area. I believe there are witches and wizards in your kingdom as well but kept it hidden." You explained as you remove the fairy ring. Jisung wowed at the magic you pulled while Mark was shook you actually have magic.

You walk towards them before you reached your palm out. The urge to see the bottle of the poison curious you. You feel like you know something that might lead you to the real criminal.

"Can I see the bottle?" You asked and Jeno handed it to you by the neck of the bottle. Your brows furrowed at the sight of the familiar bottle.

"It's woman but definitely not a witch," you returned the bottle. You look by the trees where you saw Renjun watching. You walked by one of the tall trees and knocked on the wood.

"Elf Yeonjun? Yeonjun, are you there?" You said and Yeonjun popped his head out of the small hole. Jeno and Jisung stood there, shocked.

"Yeonjun, do you know where this bottle came from?" Mark asked and showed the small elf the bottle. Immediately, Yeonjun examines the bottle and he nods his head.

"It's a bottle that belonged to the Potionmaker," Yeonjun said as you thanked the elf before he went back to his hole.

"The criminal is a woman but I don't think she's the one who brewed the potion. Anyway, for now, can you clear Mark's name?" You asked and Mark immediately held your hand.

"Clearing my name means coming back to the castle. I don't want to leave you here," Mark said with a sad face. You chuckled and kissed his lips,

"I will be alright, go back home, Mark."

You bid goodbye to the Potionmaker of the woods. His sweet and confused smile stayed on his lips after his explanation of the bottle. The bottle belonged to him but he doesn't remember brewing poison as he swore to never brew one.

It has been days since you saw Mark. You missed his cheerful voice and his loud laughs. You return back to the cabin and laughed when you saw the young fairies playing chase.

You halted your steps when you saw the familiar figure in the kitchen. You dropped the basket and hopped onto his back. He cackled a laugh,

"Missed your prince too much?" He asked and you moved to hug him from the front.

"Far too much..."

"Jeno has settled in with his significant other and he will be coronated as king soon. The king is alright with me living with my love," Mark said and you immediately connected your lips.

Mark smiled and pulled you closer to him.

"I love you, my prince," you whispered and he laughed.

"I was this accused criminal who fell in love with a half fairy. I love you too, my fairy."

[danny-attic]

Family (TMVSTM)

Summary: Eric and Deborahbot 5000 feels like they didn't belong with the The Mitchells and run away to live their own lives

"Purple glasses woman, why did you saved me?"

"Oh come on, you boys are family now"

Family…?

It is such a complex word, too difficult to truly understand. For a robot create just to following orders, Eric did not understand it yet, though he did looked up the definition of it but despite that he plays along for the sake of his and his Pal Max brother

They're heading to the Silicon Valley, The night sky is filled with no stars but the green "fun pots" containing human to somewhere. It makes the sky lights up with green light. It is an unusual sight even for robots.

The Mitchells are really going to destroy Pal?.... If so, what will happen to the remaining robots? What if..they failed..?

The bot are lost in his memories and Net Work to find something he's looking for. It seems like he's in too deep in the system Until he feels someone shaking his shoulder part lighty

"Eric...Eric, are you there? Is your system too damaged?" A voice speaks in hushed tone

Eric turn his mechanical head to another Pal Max bot, Deborahbot 5000

His brother

"What wrong? you've been so still like you shut down. I'm…. worry"

Deborah grip Eric's shoulder part lighty. Robots isn't supposed to have feelings but they're the defective now anyway, so it's not surprising that he would express what he "feels"

The car stop at some abandoned gas station. Only Katie, Aaron and the loft of bread are sleeping in the car at the moment. Mother and The male Mitchells are inside the store for something. Eric finally answered and grip Deborah's hand back

"I'm okay, my system and outside damage is unchange at the moment. I'm sorry I didn't acknowledge your question earlier. Don't need to be worry"

"Okay… but tell me if anything is acting strange, will you? I don't want to lose you, brother...We're only defective robots here, if you're gone, what am I going to do?"

"I'll always have your back like you have mine, brother. We are going to survive, one way or another"

Eric tells what he thinks is logical to his robo brother. He let go of Deborah's hand and turned his head to Mother, who's making her way back to the car with her partner and tells her the safest route to Silicon Valley.

The car is running along the road at night. The robo brothers looking outside of the car, expanding their data about the human environment and hearing the conversation between Katie and Mother. They're talking about The male Mitchells, Rick of how he's just trying to make her happy.

Eric wants to feel this "happy" too and he wants Deborah to feel the same. Maybe it would feel really nice, like getting their system updated.

But how could they do that? They're about to went through most protected head quarter in the world right now and there's no guarantee that the plan would work but the show must go on

"Mom, what is that?"

"Oh my god!!"

The car suddenly stops, making their head jerks back, Eric and Deborah turn their heads to the front window. As the Mitchells get out of the car to stand in front of the giant building as tall as the sky.

"We're here...the Head Quarter" Eric said as he's getting out of the trunk

"Oh boy, I don't like this. Do you think we could get to the top without others noticing?" Deborah ask, stepping beside Eric in front of the car, behind the Mitchells

Slowly, Eric extends his hand to the side to his brother, knob and gears whirring while he processes his next word. Deborah immediately holds his hand and they're both looking up to the tower.

"No matter what happens, we're going to be alright"

__________________________________

The plan did not go well. The Mitchells got caught by a new robot, Pal invented. The sounds of the alarm is almost deafening, after the cable car has fell down and crashed. Deborah's vision is trying to adjust after he hits the ground. The first thing he see is the face of Pal Max bot with some face drawn on.

"Are you alright, brother?" Eric said as worrying as his robotic voice could spunds while kneeling next to him

Before he could answer, The black robot burst through and captured Mother and Rick. The Mitchells is being taken away and Deborah knows he need to help

Because they're his family now too

"Mitchells, we will help"

"Oh no no no, you won't. download new order"

Suddenly, like the virus creeping through their system. Making the robo brothers clutch their head like they're in pain, unable to take control of their body any longer.

New order appears : Capture the Mitchells

Deborah trying to break free one last time

No please I don't want to do this. Eric, Mother, Anyone…Can you hear me?..

"We're sorry, Mother"

Then, everything went blank

__________________________________

"Let's take a photo after we saved the world!" Linda said cheerily to Eric after handing or rather putting it in his hand

The battle is over the human won and the uprising is over. All of the Pal Max and the new robot has been shut down, Well almost every bot.

Eric and Deborahbot 5000 have broken through Pal's control and helped Rick Mitchells to put the video of the bread dog on, neutralizing the other robots. Now they're celebrating without them

They broke the code and helped this family save the world and now they can't even be in a photo? Eric thought but took the photo anyway. Maybe they're just too excited like humans always does.

The Mitchells tell the brothers, they can stay at home with them as a member of the family. The Mitchells welcome them, Linda teaches Deborah how to draw stuff like the Sun, the tree and other things. Rick shows them how to build a shelter from branches and leaves. Arron always talks to them about dinosaurs in his books and Katie sometimes asks them for ideas for her project. It was a good time.

Time passes and the robo brothers feels like they're more like a servant than a family. The Mitchells tells them to do things for them like chores, collecting the mails, mow the lawn and many things. Most of the time they haven't called them by their names or acknowledge them when they do something for the Mitchells. At first the brothers gladly do them, thinking it was a part of being a family but this time they had enough.

At night, when everyone is asleep. Eric and Deborah sit on a rooftop, looking into the sky. The moon is full today, shining bright along millions of sparkling stars. They come here every time they want to say something they went through each day, like updating each other. Today is different

"Today Rick called me Robot instead of my name again, I don't really think it's from force habits anymore" Deborah speaks in a quiet voice, mechanical head looks up to the shooting stars, then to his brother.

"But at least Mother let me help her cook dinner! It was really interesting, I learned how to peel a potato today, Look!"

He grabbed the potato peels besides him and held up to his brother. It's ragged, uneven and still has a big chunk of potato attached to it. Eric chuckles in a monotone like his robotic voice always does.

"That's great, Deborah. You know today Mother also let me do the laundry too! There was a lot of foam but I think I did well, Mother's face looks so surprised when I tell her I also put her bag in there too. She rushed past me so fast, I can't even see her"

"The purple bag? Oh yes, she loves that bag. Very thoughtful, Eric."

Then Deborah held out his hand, attempt to high-five Eric but they kept missing each other's hands, so they tapped their heads together gently. The glass tink softly as they did.

They looked up to the sky again, thinking about their lives with the Mitchells. Of how they've been treated lately, how they've been struggling to fit in the family and how they feel like they've been ignored.

Eric broke the silence between them and speaks in a quiet voice, hands gripping his knees tighter.

"Making our own order is great, we can do everything we want now"

Deborah nods " but why do I feel like we're doing The Mitchells order everyday"

"I understand if they haven't felt comfortable with us but they should have told us and we can be somewhere else. Not…. keeping us servants..like this.."

He looked back at Eric and asked in a hushed voice, if a robot can cry tears, his voice would be shaking like a human...but he's not human.

“I wonder if there’s any bots like us.. You know, the defectives. What are they up to? Where are they now? Do they stay with humans like us?”

“I don’t know, brother. I don’t know. I guess Pal wasn’t prepared for anything like this. She didn’t put any program for tracking other bots for us.”

“We should go find them. That way we can have our own robots family! We don’t have to listen to any humans anymore!

Deborah grab his brother shoulders part, turn his body to face him and said firmly

“You say it yourself, Eric. We take our own orders now. This is the time we can truly do that. Don’t you see? Other Mitchells except Mother didn’t treat us very well. They call us Robots rather than our names. They give orders. They got angry when we didn’t complete what they requested. They didn’t acknowledge us most of the time like we aren’t right there!”

His voice drop low and finally he hugs his brother, a gesture he saw human does to their family and the one they cared for

“We did everything together...but we’re just in the background every time..We aren’t supposed to feel emotions but I do...”

Slowly, Eric lifts his hand and hugs back tightly, mechanical gear and wires clicking as he thinks about his brother's words.

It’s true. They were in the background most of the time. They were more like a maid robot than a member of a family like the Mitchells said. Maybe his brother was right, this is not where they truly belong. They need to get away from humans. For good this time.

“You’re right. We should go”

Eric let go of his brother and stand up. Looking into the distant city, held out his hand for Deborah. They will make their own future with others, if there are any more of them left.

“Let’s go say our goodbye to the Mitchells. Though they may have treated us like this but they still help us from Pal.”

“Should we leave a letter or something?”

“If you want to, we can. Oh oh! We should put the glitter on!”

Together, they jump down from the rooftops and go inside the house. Writing a goodbye letter for the Mitchells, telling them they appreciated everything they did but they want to live their own lives somewhere else without anyone giving them orders

After sometime, they put the letter down at the dinner table with a flower Eric collected from the neighbor's house, The Poseys.

Now, the brothers stand in front of the house. Looking back one last time before leaving.

"Let's go, brother" Eric said.

_________________________________________

The sounds of the jet under their feet break the silence of the night. They jump and fly into the sky, green trails from the jet painting the night sky. They fly and fly further away from the house. Until the dawn came, they stopped at some abandoned cabin in the woods. It appears there's nobody living here for a long time.

"This place is in a good condition and I believe there's no human living here." Deborah said, feeling satisfied

"Yes, but we should look around just in case. Could you check around the cabin? I'll check inside." Eric asked while looking around and scanning the cabin with the camera on the top right of his head.

Deborah nods and goes out the door to check for anything or anyone. Leaving only Eric inside.

Eric wanders into the halls, scanning every room. The cabin is dusty and there were some traces of wild animals making a nest and shelter. Some kind of nuts and leaves were scattered all over the floor.Everything seems normal for an abandoned human cabin, until he spotted muddy footprints. It’s still wet, this only means one thing. There’s someone here.

The sound of a metal clanking from further down the cabin. It appears the sounds came from the kitchen. Eric changes one of his hand to the plasma beam shooter, being on guard and slowly walking to the origin of the sound.

[bansheeoftheforest]

Uh, is there still an angst break? Ignore this ask until your ready if so 👉😎👉

-

What was the au where Jekylls pushed down the stairs and experiences a skull crackening again? Oh well but I've been thinking of a branch of that where Jekyll doesn't know hes dead like all day. I also cant remember if that was already discussed or not

The lodgers patch him up, he complains of a headache, and goes on his merry way! He's confused why all the lodgers are so nervous and being nice to him all of the sudden, why creature is looking at him with a stange mix of empathy and pity. He was told he fell down the stairs, fell unconscious, and obtained a bit of an injury. He cant fathom why Frankenstein is "The only doctor who can treat him" why he has to constantly go to her for checkups. Why Maijabi is suddenly following him practically everywhere.

Hyde squeezes back control for a moment and tries the potion but it doesn't work. Maybe a bit of pain but certainly no transformation. Jekyll assumes his injury or whatever medication they're giving him to treat it somehow negated the effects

Jekyll complains about "suddenly blacking out" the lodgers know its because his soul is slippery. They tell him it must just be a side effect of the injury and not to worry

How long can they keep it secret from him? When does he find out? Does he? Does it get to be years only for him to realize that he hasn't aged? That he still needs checkups from Frankenstein? Does he learn sooner? Does a lodger crack and say it? Does he rot? Does he notice how so very cold he is. How animals act around him? It's all very interesting,,

-

I actually did think a bit of Jekyll's kidnappers for the amnesia kidnapping au! When drawing that lil sketch of Henry and O'Leary meeting Robert I had considered making it so O'Leary was suspicious of Lanyon like "Oh theres no news anywhere of someone matching Thomas' description who's missing. But some random people walk up claiming to know him? Begging to take him back with them?" And he'd think they were the kidnappers. But ultimately I decided against it as I felt Lanyon and Rachel were pretty clearly, genuinely concerned for "Thomas" :p

-

I tried playing assassins creed once, the first(?) one. But the controls were confusing and everything was sorta thrown all at me at once, and I got bored of it quickly

But! I went to the store the other day and just so happened to notice Syndicate was being sold for 15 dollars 👀 So I bought it because funky Victorian assassins and your influence! It's a bit less confusing then the first ac game I tried but why is going down or dropping so hard bdksnks. I'm having quite a bit of fun! If you dont count my rage and annoyance-, the B button refuses to cooperate with me unless I'm looting corpses >:(

The b button being the bane of my existence aside, I AM having fun! I like the funky outfits and I want to play as the girl twin (evie?) forever because her clothes are good and shes better at attacking than jacob(?) For some reason. Probably the stun her weapon has? Oh well! I have not unlocked any new outfits yet, nonetheless I wish there were more.

Also! I was thimking, and my current quests are taking place at 1868? Did I get that right? And Jekyll is like 35 in 1885. So in game he'd be 18! An au like I believe you mentioned sounds very interesting 👀 but I must play more to know what's going on and daydream about it

That would be the resurrection au <3

But god, I really like that branch! Especially combined with the hc that he can't feel pain bc the HJ7 and the transformations made him immune. Frankenstein patched him up and made fleshweaver to heal the crack in his skull but it still has to be bandaged, he surely broke a few bones, yet all he has to do is to be careful because it doesn't even hurt. He doesn't even realize how severe the injuries are because it doesn't hurt, it very well might just have been that he accidentally slipped at the bottom of the staircase and accidentally hit his head on the railing during his fall, rather than getting physically pushed and flying down the stairs, shattering his skull upon impact with the marble floor. Y'know what would be extra fun? If he only starts getting a bit suspicious about how severe the injury was once he realizes his lungs stop breathing for minutes at a time when he gets distracted, or his heartbeat stops dead in his chest. I know that that's not how biology or even creature works but lets say the HJ7 is funky, Zombie Jekyll my beloved. Perhaps he would only fully grasp what had happened once he blacked out too much and 'passed out', but his soul slipped out enough to leave his body unconscious on the floor while his soul/ghost was just... Watching. And it's not until Maijabi (who, as you said, follows him everywhere) immediately calls for more Lodgers saying that Henry's soul is getting unstable and Frankenstein's lousy job is starting to shine through that he fully understands that it was not a mere hit to the head. Or maybe it is when days, weeks, maybe months has passed and the headache never goes away, he only feels how his body starts feeling so much more... Fragile and delicate, that the guilt has eaten Helsby up alive and he corners him and spills everything, knowing he is going directly against what the group agreed to but not being able to keep it a secret much longer-- or maybe Creature would tell him immediately, once Henry is, for once, alone perhaps days after the initial accident. He cannot see Henry struggle to understand what is going on when he already knows what's happening to Henry, his mind, and his body. He doesn't listen to the plan that Frankenstein and the Lodgers has set up and immediately tells Henry the first moment they are alone. That would certainly be horrifying, I can only imagine how the Lodgers would find Henry after that, once he actually knows and manages to process everything. He would be so mad, not only to have been killed in the first place, but also because he was robbed of an afterlife because the Lodgers were selfish and could not accept the consequences of their actions. He would be mad, he would be so pissed and I have no doubt he might actually be mad at Maijabi too for even agreeing to help Frankenstein and the rest of the Lodgers. That anger would not stay long, though. That anger would soon turn into misery and sadness and paranoia so even as Henry has tried to push Maijabi away, Henry still ends up on his doorstep begging him to help him make sure he is not rotting, because no matter what anyone says, he is sure he can see rotten spots and patches on his skin and he is just so scared and jdhfjsdfdsfsfs... <3

--

Ooooooohhh, I was actually daydreaming about this just this morning! Granted, I woke up at 5 and began to daydream to fall asleep quicker but I still like the thought of O'Leary being suspicious of Robert/Rachel/Jasper/the Lodgers bc he is protective of 'Thomas' and doesn't want anything bad to happen to him and especially with the idea that Henry still has hallucinations and they both think he was abandoned by his family, left to rot at a mental asylum. O'Leary might very well think that it might be Henry's friends and family that dumped him that Henry had 'escaped' the hospital and that's why they knew he was missing since the Asylum itself obviously wouldn't have posted the news... I really liked Jeks idea, okay? Like a lot, I absolutely love it <3

--

Oh, the oldest AC game I played was Unity bc it was free after the Notre Dame fire, and I can confirm, I played 15 min and could not get through it even if i would have wanted to, it absolutely sucks so i have no doubt the older games are just as frustrating <3

BUT!!!! I'M SO GLAD MY CORRUPTION IS SPREADING AND YOU BOUGHT AND PLAYED IT AND ARE ENJOYING IT SO FAR!!! Trust me, Syndicate truly is an absolutely amazing game and is definitely one of my top 3 games of all time. I sometimes play it w my friend watching me play and trust me, I know that rage of trying to do smt but the character does smt else... or you try to do smt but the game doesn't react and you miss your chance... Oh well, still a wonderful game <3

My friend loves to play as Evie as well but I'm definitely playing Jacob every chance I get and I honestly get a lil pissy when I have to play as Evie bc I always prefer to play male characters, plus, I just like Jacob better bc he is a sweetheart. He is also canonically bisexual as hell!!! Have you met Abberline yet? The police officer? Him and Jacob together is one of my fave ships for the game. I also bought the ultimate/golden/whatever name it was edition so I had a bunch of extra outfits, I love the sherlock holmes outfit for Jacob but my friend keeps bullying me for it </3

Honestly? The time difference is the bane of my entire idea for the au bc if it's during their time Henry hasn't even graduated yet, and definitely not well-known enough for them to actively meet for whatever reason, and if you use the timeline for the jack the ripper dlc (in 1888) a lot of... Less than pleasant things happen so it wouldn't really make a lot of sense for a crossover to happen at that point but maybe it's just bc im a pussy and refuse to play the dlc. Rn, while imagining the au, I just imagine the 1868 timeline to be the same as the TGS timeline. I like to imagine the Frye Twins hearing about Henry and the Society and promptly breaking into his office to ask him to make poison and stuff for them. I also have a feeling that Jacob would flirt wildly with Henry and that Henry would be less-than-amused. It would also be a very fun thing with the fact that there would be two Henrys, with TGS Henry Jekyll and AC Syndicate Henry Green, soo... XD

[straydawg-writing]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 3—

"Don't they have anything at least a LITTLE flattering? I get they're like hippie-extremists, but not all of us want to look like a sack of potatoes," you complained, swiping through their clothing racks that screamed no-potential-whatsoever.

You'd finally arrived at NGL headquarters, only for them to make the three of you throw out your phones and clothes. It's like they were still living in the 18th century.

"It's only clothes. Just pick whatever," Killua replied while browsing through the selection, though he looked equally as aggravated and bored. He did have at least some style that he wanted to upkeep.

Gon on the other hand didn't seem to care.

"You think they have anything green?" He wondered out loud.

You pulled out a set of white pants with a blue long sleeves top.

"Hey Killua."

"Yeah?"

You shoved the set into his arms, giving him a bright smile.

"Try this on, I think it would match your eyes well."

"Idiot. The Chimera Ants won't be looking at my eyes when we're fighting them." Pink dusted his cheeks as he looked to the side, avoiding eye contact.

He bought the outfit without even trying it on.

Gon pouted. "Wait, what about me?"

You pulled out two more similar sets. One was a pair of green pants and a white tank top, while the other was burgundy pants with a black top. That one was yours.

"We can all match!" You grinned, relieved you finally found something that wouldn't make you all look like homeless children. "Well, sort of." The sets were still different colors, but they retained the same general style.

"Oh, great idea Y/N! I'll go change into it now," Gon beamed, nearly skipping all the way to the changing room with his brand new green pants. It was about time he put on something different for a change, you inwardly joked.

Killua was already walking back from the stalls when Gon ran past him.

"Wow Killua, look at that drip~" You whistled, checking out his new outfit.

"You're so hopeless," he sighed, bonking the top of your head.

You rubbed where he had hit and stuck out your tongue, pretending to be hurt. It was the truth though, he looked really good in the outfit you had picked out. Peeking at him while he wasn't looking, you discovered that the tight-skinned long sleeves accentuated his arms in a way you'd never noticed before, hugging his lean muscles. You were right about the royal-colored shirt bringing out his pretty blue eyes. And the way his pale skin and white hair contrasted them even looked a little heavenly...

God, what were you thinking? If Killua heard you right now he'd hit you over the head another 20 times over. You looked to the floor, hoping he wouldn't see your growing blush.

After all three of you had changed into your new clothes, the hunt for the Chimera Ants began. Kite was on his own horse, while the rest of you fit on the second one due to your small frames. You were holding onto Gon's torso as he took control of the reins.

He was like a natural, his whole body moving in sync with the horse in strong determination. You trusted him, knowing that wouldn't just let you topple over. You weren't really used to horses, as they weren't typically found roaming around the jungle.

Then there was Killua, who was standing stick-straight on the horse like it was nothing.

"How do you even do that?!" You called out over the sound of galloping hooves.

"Huh, Do what? You mean this?" Killua smirked, doing a handstand.

You couldn't believe him. The boy had no fear at all.

"You're crazy," you stated, turning around to face Killua and leisurely leaning your back against Gon.

You had finally mastered balancing on the horse without having to hold onto him— but you had nowhere as near the skill Killua did.

"Maybe I am, but you love it," he teased, still upside-down. Temptingly enough, his white locks of hair were hanging upside-down too.

Slowly, you leaned forward on the palm of your hands, steadily closing in the distance between you two.

"Sure, I do. You got me there," you cooed, catching him off guard.

"Huh.." He sweatdropped, turning bright red. Killua's balance was starting to wobble.

Then, exploiting his moment of weakness, you tugged on his hair knocking him over.

Satisfied, you rested against Gon again. Thankfully the boy didn't seem to mind.

"Show off," You said, sticking your nose in the air.

"Man, that was so unfair!" Killua whined, sitting back down on the horse and dragging his hands down his face.

You crossed your arms, ready to deliver some witty comeback, when you noticed some bees in the distance that looked like they were carrying something. Squinting your eyes, you saw that they were flying in closer.

"Hey guys, look at that," you pointed out. The horses stopped as one of the bees dropped the paper in Kite's hand.

Help!!

Chimera Ant Nest, Rocky Area

Notify Hunter Association!!

An SOS? And it appeared to be written in blood.

You cast a worried glance at Gon, who looked disturbed.

"It's Ponzu..."

Ponzu...? The name wasn't familiar to you at all. That must be somebody Killua and Gon knew from before you had met them.

The bee fluttered defeatedly around you before making its landing on your ring finger. Kite made the decision to leave the horses, with a message for the Hunter Association.

Even though they ran faster on foot, it didn't take much time until you came across an unsettling scene.

Or, what was left of Ponzu.

Blood soaked the ground. Articles of ripped-up clothing scattered the dirt, and there was not even a bone in sight. The putrid smell of iron overwhelmed your nostrils.

It was fresh blood.

If you had arrived even 15 minutes earlier, maybe Gon and Killua's friend would not have so barbarically killed. You felt sick to your stomach.

'This wasn't done by a human'

"This was done by a Chimera Ant," Kite finished your thought.

The look on Gon's face scared you. Most of the time, Gon was a sweet boy on a journey to find his father. But sometimes, you could spot a festering darkness threatening to take over his very being. You knew he would never tolerate his friends getting hurt, but you couldn't help but wonder if Gon was self-sacrificing, or perhaps selfish?

"I hate to consider the possibility, but it's possible that NGL's underground rulers have already been fed to the queen. What will happen if Chimera Ants are born with their genes..?" Kite trailed off, studying one of the bullet casings in the murder scene.

An unprecedented biohazard never seen before in human history, is what that meant. The worst-case scenario had just happened.

⋯✰⋯

That wasn't the last disturbing scene the four of you came across. In front of you now were three decaying horses, each speared through the stomach by its own tree. They resembled grilled chicken and steak kebabs.

The scent was even worse than the last incident. This time, they were rotting. Killua and you both covered your noses, in an attempt to block out the stench.

"It's like a morning sacrifice," Gon stated.

You remembered what that was. Back at home, sometimes birds would impale their prey on sharp objects like branches. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it was the circle of life. What kind of monster could do this to not just one, but three 1,000 ton horses?

Your question was answered quicker than you had hoped.

"Trash. Those are mine!" The monster in question growled as he stepped foot out of the dense forest.

He looked like an overgrown bunny, with wings of a bird, thick-ass thighs, and seaweed green hair. And as for the vibe he gave off? You could safely assume he was just a stupid man-child.

"Wow. You're ugly," you deadpanned.

"You wanna say that again little brat?" He snarled, making the first move and charging right after you.

You quickly dodged his attack, but not before he came in contact with your arm. That was gonna leave a bruise.

Kite activated his aura, temporarily distracting the bunny-monster. It seemed to have noticed the change in atmosphere.

No way...was it possible? Had it already learned about the power of nen?

"Y/N, Gon, Killua... You three must deal with him yourselves. We'll be encountering more Chimera Ant soldiers like him. I won't be able to help you during combat, so if you can't defeat him, you will have to leave." Kite stepped back from the fight.

You nodded, Gon and Killua mirroring you. The three of you understood what hung in the fate of this fight.

"We told you before Kite, we're pros, not just kids!"

In sync, you all activated your nen together.

"Did you hear that bunny? I'm about to blow off those weird speedos of yours into the next dimension." You raised your hand in front of you, manipulating the wind to blow him away with every step that you advanced.

Killua was already in the air, prepared to test his thunder-bolt. In a flash of blue, dozens of lightning strikes were being zapped into the ant, immobilizing him. Gon's charged punch was enough to send him flying across the sky.

You saw his tail-puff shrink and sparkle in the distance as he was about to disappear, until something fast and unidentifiable swept him away.

Someone had been watching.

"He let his soldier do the fighting so that he could learn our abilities," Kite explained while walking towards the three of you again.

Gon and Killua looked disappointed. You hadn't even gotten a chance to use much of your powers during that fight. If you had finished it off, would that have been enough to prove yourselves?

"Are you coming?"

You looked up at Kite.

"There's no need to feel down, your attacks weren't that bad. You just need experience now. If you wish to become stronger, this is a perfect opportunity... But if you aren't prepared, you won't be able to endure it. Whether we win or lose, hell lies ahead of us." Kite finished off, looking at each one of you in the eye with a resolute stare.

You knew that. Gon and Killua knew that also.

Even so, all three of you were prepared and eager to do whatever it takes to strengthen yourselves and help Kite save NGL.

⋯✰⋯

Kite looked serene as the light of the small campfire lit up his features. He and Gon had caught some fish for dinner earlier, while Killua and you set up camp. Now, you sat brushing arms with Killua, who was sitting next to Gon, who was huddled up close to Kite. The night was quiet, except for the cicadas singing in the trees and the thoughts running through you and your friend's minds.

There was a lot to think about.

Gon and Killua hadn't even been given the time to grieve over the loss of their past acquaintance, before being hit with the hard-hitting truth that the Ants were already evolving at a nightmarish rate. Nobody knew how many had gone missing or even more so been eaten. Yet everyone knew that the death count had already surpassed comprehensible numbers. Most likely, not everybody here would make it out alive.

But, the three of you consistently have proven the odds wrong. You held onto that fact like you held onto your pendant.

It reassured you.

It was obvious that the three of you had become inseparable over the past two years.

After you met Gon and Killua at Heaven's Arena, you'd never left each other's side.

Nobody would be going home without the other, because you had all found home within each other.

"Hey, Kite? What was your dad like?" Gon asked.

Kite looked up at the boy, surprised by the sudden question. Turning his eyes to the starry night sky, he exhaled a breath of cold air.

"I didn't know him. He disappeared when I was a child."

Gon hummed, waiting for Kite to continue. He knew that feeling too. It was an icy and empty feeling, not having a father figure in your life to guide you, praise you.

"I have very few memories of him, but they've all muddled together by now. Sometimes I can't tell if they're real or if I've convinced myself they are."

"....I think Ging would thank you."

This brought Kite's attention back to Gon.

"Thank me for what?"

"Well... You've been like a sort of mentor for me ever since we met, back on Whale Island. If it weren't for you, I would never have even become a hunter. Maybe I'm just a kid, but the past month it felt like I.. like I had a dad."

Your heart ached for Gon, who had been searching this whole time for his father in everyone he met and everything he saw. Gently, you placed your hand over his and squeezed it, wishing you could be of more comfort to him. Wishing you could turn back time and bring Ging back to his home, to Gon.

Kite's eyes softened as he looked at the boy, who offered a wobbly smile.

"Ging would be proud of you," he said, ruffling Gon's spiky hair.

That night, the glimmering moonlight had brought out your most vulnerable selves. You felt a honey-like warmth grow inside of you— a new member had just been added to your family. Killua seemed content, happy that his friend was smiling. And Gon's eyes matched the twinkling stars as he looked up to Kite like he was the most wonderful thing.

It was a special night. You knew deep down that you would treasure it, for a long time to come.

⋯✰⋯

[doyelikehaggis]

Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scydia/McMartin | Scott McCall x Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @wonderdoves & anonymous

"This place is…"

Scott can't even think of a word. He just gazes ahead of them in wonder and awe. For miles, all he can see is snow. A thick white blanket of it covering the entire path ahead, the roads, the cobblestoned buildings, the trees—god, even the trees feel like something out of a fairytale, with long, twisting branches that have a dusting of snow themselves. And it's still going, trying to make them part of the scenery, too.

"You'd think you'd never seen snow before," Lydia teases. 

"I haven't—not like this! California's snow is nothing compared to this." 

Lydia just smiles, a certain fondness in her eyes. She squints up at the sky, her nose wrinkling slightly, their suitcases dragging along through the snow behind them as they continue their way from the ferry port. Something else that Scott is admittedly still in amazement over; he'd never actually been on a ferry before. 

It's just a good thing that the snow stopped long enough for them to actually reach Ireland, or else they'd have still been holed up in their cabin, stuck somewhere in the middle of the sea. Not the worst scenario he can think of, to be fair. But he's glad, nonetheless, because this is so much better. 

"I don't know," Lydia says. "I think I prefer the warm winters. I'm just hoping that Gran and Nana make their hot chocolate like they used to when I was younger, I'm telling you, it's the best thing ever."

Scott smiles, finally looking at Lydia as they come to a stop outside a two-storey, cobbled house with a gate around the garden. Her cheeks are flushed from the cold, her nose a pale pink. Snowflakes have clung to her green hat, along the shoulders of her matching green coat, and to her eyelashes. There's a gleam of pure excitement and joy beneath them as she stares at the house. 

When she takes a deep breath, it returns like a puff of smoke. Scott gently squeezes her hand and holds it up in his own, bringing her gloved knuckles to his lips.

"You look nervous," he tells her softly. 

"A little," Lydia says, nodding. "Only because I haven't been here since I was… nine? And there's so much to tell them. I mean, I know my mom filled them in on pretty much everything, but still."

Scott nods as well, saying, "I know. It's a lot. But it'll be okay."

"Yeah, of course," Lydia agrees. Her smile seems a little more confident as she gives another nod.

They walk through the gate, into the garden that Scott's now seeing is teeming with things; empty plant pots, kids toys, an overturned bicycle. Even the stones of the house are more interesting than he had initially realized, with bright murals painted across the whole front of the house. 

As soon as they enter the house, the door closing behind them, they're hit with unexplainable warmth. And the shouting and giggling of kids that whiz past them, nearly knocking them off their feet. 

"I forgot how loud it gets here," Lydia says, but she's laughing. Scott can see it in her eyes as she looks around the entrance hall, beautifully decorated with lengths of tinsel, and handcrafted baubles hanging from the ceiling. 

Framed pictures line the walls up the stairs as far as he can. The closest one, hanging by the bottom of the stairs, has a familiar little girl, giving her biggest smile to the camera beside a young woman with a striking resemblance. 

"Is this you?" Scott asks, his smile wide. 

Lydia looks at the photo. "Oh god, yeah. I think that was when I was, like… six? I came up here every Christmas and New Year before my parents divorced. That's my gran."

"You look like her," Scott tells her, and he can hear the joyful skip of heart, hear it in her proud little hum of agreement. 

"Well, maybe without some of the grey hair," a voice says from behind them. 

They both turn around, and Lydia's face lights up. She's already squealing and dropping her suitcase and Scott's hand. 

"Gran!" Lydia practically flies at her, hugging her tightly. 

Her gran laughs, caught by surprise but only for a second, wrapping her up in her arms. "I've missed you too, Ariel!" 

"Haven't heard that name in a while," someone else says, with a distinctively more Irish accent, but still holding the same fond, overjoyed tone.

Scott looks at the woman who appears at their side from the room behind Lydia and her gran. He recognizes her instantly from all the photos. 

Maddy places a hand on Lorraine's shoulder as she and Lydia pull apart. Lydia looks on the verge of tears as she buries herself into Maddy's open embrace as well for a second, both laughing now. 

"And you…" Lorraine looks over Scott with a smile and a gleam in her eyes. A certain kind of knowing. "... You're Scott McCall."

Scott returns her smile and nods. "I am. I've heard a lot about you, Mrs. Martin."

"Yeah, I know a thing or two about you as well," Lorraine tells him, and he knows. 

He knows she isn't just talking about him and Lydia being together, but about everything. The deadpool. She knew who he was and what he was going to be before he even hit ten. 

For a moment, his worries from the ferry come back. Not all supernatural creatures are a fan of each other, and with the destruction that werewolves have a history of causing, banshees can't be that fond of them. And especially with everything that's happened to Lydia. 

But then her smile grows and she says, "I'm glad to finally meet you! And, please, call me Lorraine. This is my wife, Maddy."

"So, this is the little wolf that got your heart, huh?" Maddy jokes to Lydia, an arm around her shoulders. 

Lydia looks at Scott. She bites her bottom lip through her smile, and her eyes are saying everything. 

She nods and softly says, "Yeah. He is."

"Then you're more than welcome here," Lorraine says.

Relief starts to lift the weight off of Scott's shoulders and chest. The warm, welcoming atmosphere is hard to resist, and he's already feeling at home. 

-

Lydia was right. The hot chocolate is one of the best things he's ever had. Creamy and overflowing with marshmallows with a candy cane to stir it around. Not to mention the plate of cookies. He has never had a gingerbread man that tastes this good.

It's already dark outside, the sun having set an hour or two after they arrived. They already changed into warmer, more comfortable clothes, and settled in front of the fireplace in the living room to get rid of the chill from the snow. Lorraine and Maddy insisted. Didn't want them getting sick, and ignoring their protests about not being able to actually get sick.

"Your cousins don't look like they're having a good time," Scott comments quietly, watching the half-asleep couple sitting in the corner. 

"They have five kids, all under the age of ten," Lydia replies. "I think the only thing they can feel right now is exhausted."

Scott snorts. He looks around the room. He's met nearly everyone on this side of the family by now. Every cousin, second cousin, aunts, uncles. The kids that Lorraine and Maddy took in have been especially eager to meet him. 

His attention is drawn back to the little boy sitting cross-legged in front of him. He's only nine.

Scott wasn't expecting it when Lorraine and Maddy told him that around ten years ago, another banshee had found them. She was only nineteen and had no one and no idea what was going on with her. They took her in, Lorraine helped her. And from then, it's like their home was its own supernatural beacon, but for kids who had nowhere else to go. 

Sean, the little boy currently sneaking another gingerbread man from the plate, is a werewolf. His family, his pack, were hunted down when he was four. Lorraine felt it coming. She and Maddy found Sean. 

There's a little yelp and Sean clutches his hand. Scott catches a glimpse of tiny claws where nails should be. 

"Can I…?" he asks, holding out a hand. 

Sean hesitates, but he glances at Lydia, who smiles and nods encouragingly, then back at Scott. He slowly gives him his hand, palm up. 

"I don't know how to control it…" Sean mutters, looking down sheepishly. 

Scott inspects where the small trickle of blood is coming from. Three little lines where his claws accidentally caught his skin in passing. 

Shaking his head, Scott speaks gently, and draws on the pain in Sean's hand. "It's okay. You're still learning."

"Yeah, it's actually harder for born wolves," Lydia chimes in, nodding convincingly when Sean lifts his eyes to her with curiosity. "You'd think it was the other way around, but one of our friends—he was born a werewolf."

"And he didn't learn until he was sixteen," Scott tells him. "It just takes time."

"And knowing what keeps you grounded," Lydia adds. "Your anchor."

Sean looks at Scott. "Do you have an anchor?"

Scott nods. "I do. I had to learn to let me be my own anchor, but when that doesn't work for me, I focus on all the people I love. My mom, my best friend, my pack." 

He glances at Lydia only to find her already gazing at him with the softest smile, her cheek leaning against her shoulder. She places a kiss to his shoulder, her hand resting on her arm for a second.

"You just need to find something that makes you feel more in control," Scott finishes, turning back to Sean. "Even if it's an emotion."

Sean nods slowly. His expression is one of deep thought, trying to work to figure out what his own anchor could be. 

"Now, you should go clean this up," Scott says. "Just run it under warm water with some soap, okay? It might sting a little, but just ask Lorraine or Maddy if they have any antibiotic cream, and then put a bandage on it."

"Are you a doctor?" Sean asks.

"No," Scott can't help but grin as he says, "I'm just a vet."

That answer only seems to confuse Sean. But he gets up and hurries off to go do what Scott instructed. 

When Scott turns back, Lydia's still watching him. She has this look on her face, a thoughtful glaze in her eyes and a certain kind of smile that he can't read. 

Chuckling, Scott asks, "What is it?"

She lets a beat pass. She shakes her head, takes a slow breath in, then looks over at the window instead.

"It's still snowing. Do you wanna sit in the garden? There's a nice bench out back."

Scott's eyebrows furrow a little, but he stands with her, following her to the back door from the kitchen. Stepping outside is like what he'd imagine stepping into a walk-in freezer would feel like. 

But the cold biting at his skin is unimportant. The awe hits him all over again as he takes in the sight of the garden, feeling like he just stepped into a fairytale instead. Everywhere he looks, everything is white and sparkling. From the entire ground, to the gazebo at the end of the garden. 

Somehow, in amidst it all, there are flowers. Whole roses and everything, snow dusting across their dark red petals. 

"This is…" Scott breathes out, his eyes wide, "... I don't even know what this is. This place doesn't feel real."

Lydia laughs gently. She wraps her arms around her and nods, looking around as the snow falls around them. 

"Yeah, it does feel kind of… magical."

"We could actually make a snowman," Scott continues. "Or have a real snowball fight. Are snow angels things that people actually do?"

Lydia's eyebrows are raised when he looks back at her, and she's shaking her head. But she's got a smile that stretches to the corners of her eyes and he can feel emotions radiating off of her.

"You are so dorky." She moves closer, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. "And I love you."

Scott smiles. His voice is soft and giving away all of the fondness he feels for her when he says, "And I love you."

She leans in, her head tilting. Her lips are soft against his. He pulls her a little closer, his arms wrapping around her waist. The cold and even the snow is easier to ignore.

Lydia pulls back, her hands lingering on his shoulders. Scott doesn't let go at all. 

"I'm really glad you're here with me," Lydia tells him. "And my whole family now loves you, so that's a nice bonus. I think you even made a friend."

Scott grins, shrugging. "Your family is great, and I am… beyond relieved that they like me. And, I think with Sean, it's a werewolf thing."

"Oh, no." Lydia shakes her head firmly. "Maybe that's a small part of it, the whole Alpha thing and all, but all of the kids in there love you."

They pull apart. Lydia sits down on the bench. Scott follows, and can't help but start piling the snow from the arm of the bench into a ball in his hand. 

"You were amazing with Sean," Lydia comments, glancing at him. She's doing the same thing with the snow on her side. 

Scott shrugs again. "I just told him the same as I told Liam. And Alec. It's how I wish I could have been introduced to all of this. With someone reassuring me that it would be okay."

Lydia nods in a shared understanding. Neither of their starts in the supernatural word were exactly pleasant or comforting. Scott's only sorry that Lydia was brought into it the way she was. 

She rests a hand on top of his, curling her fingers beneath his palm. She squeezes gently. 

He knows that she can tell what he's thinking. Sometimes he worries that banshees have the ability to read minds as well. But the look she gives him and her hand there with his draws his thoughts away from the past. Everything is okay. It's better than okay. 

"It's amazing what your gran and nana have done, though," Scott says. "Taking in supernatural kids who have nowhere else to go."

"Yeah, it's like a little foster home, but… for werewolves, banshees, and everything else," Lydia jokes, but her smile is sincere. "It's a really good thing they're doing. The kids are so happy here."

"I can see why," Scott says, gazing back out across the garden. The snow has the sky practically glowing, in no way looking like it's dark enough to be night. 

There's a slight pressure against his hand from Lydia's fingers, moving slowly. 

"Do you… do you think that's something you'd ever want to do?" Lydia asks, careful with her words.

Scott looks back at her. She's watching him again, with curious eyes. His heart drops many beats.

"Wait, are you—?" he starts to ask, but Lydia's eyes widen and she quickly shakes her head.

"No!" she hastens to answer. "No, I'm not! I just meant… you know, in general, is it—is it something that you can see for the future? Not necessarily the foster home part, but… you know."

She chews her bottom lip. Scott takes it in, letting the question process. After a moment, a smile curves the corners of his mouth up.

"Imagine, the first werewolf-banshee hybrid," he says.

"That can't have been done before," Lydia agrees, a laugh to her voice. "I wonder if one side would skip them, or if we'd be creating a whole new species."

Scott actually does laugh now, and Lydia joins him. His stomach is buzzing with butterflies or bees, he can't tell. 

When they both go quiet, Scott slowly nods. He lifts his eyes to meet Lydia's.

"I like the sound of that," he says softly. "Whether it be a werewolf-banshee hybrid, or even an orphaned werewolf with nobody else… yeah. It's something I see for the future."

Lydia takes in a deep breath. She presses her lips together as her smile threatens to take over her entire face. She just nods, and breathes out slowly.

"Good to know," she says. "I do too, for the record."

"Okay, that's great," Scott says, grinning from ear to ear. 

Lydia hums in agreement. Then the ball of snow that she'd been forming hits him square in the chest. 

It's safe to say that it is freezing. The snow instantly seeps through his Christmas jumper, melting into his skin. He gasps while Lydia laughs behind her hands, hee eyes wide.

"You said you wanted a snowball fight…" she reminds him. 

Scott nods. "You're absolutely right. I did."

The ball of snow in his own hand hits Lydia. She gasps, snow sticking to her jumper as well now. 

"Oh my god, so cold!" she exclaims. "Why is that so cold?!" 

"Because it's real snow," Scott says, his excitement quickly returning. 

Lydia looks at him, her eyes narrowing. A familiar, competitive smirk forms on both their faces. 

"Game on," she says. 

Next second, they're trying to dodge out of the other's way, snowballs flying across the garden. There are gasps and shouts and laughter when they successfully land a shot. 

Maybe it's a little unfair that Scott taps into his heightened abilities to move faster. But the advantage doesn't stop Lydia from managing to sneak up on him and tackle him into the snow. It's so deep that they sink a few inches into it, laughing until their sides and faces ache, and neither of them actually win, both claiming they did. But they end up just lying there in the freezing snow, curled into each other, staring up at the night sky. 

[justhereforfanfiction]

Lost - Logan x MC

Angst, approximately 2, 500 words.

Hi. This is my first ever fanfiction, so any feedback is welcome! Although I haven't posted any fanfictions on there other than this one, I will likely branch out from Choices on Wattpad and if you are interested in that, maybe you could look at my account? It's @ GalaxyGirl20671! Again, feedback including constructive criticism is welcome, and I hope you like it! I think it helps 'set the mood' if you do listen to the song, but in no way do you have to! I hope you enjoy. 😊

I know I didn't use every lyric but that's because I didn't want to use repeated lines in case it became repetitive.

Song - Lost by Freya Ridings

*I know I use 'Ellie' in this instance but it just represents the MC - to me, it feels a bit detached to use 'Y/N' - but feel free to self-insert if you wish! :)*

 'Standing on the platform, watching you go...'

Ellie stood at the turn - in at the end of her block, watching as a sleek, black-striped yellow sports car slid out of its slot into the street. Almost as easy as it had come into her life, she supposed, on that less-than-fateful day. But she knew that that was not the case, just as she knew the boy whose spark plug necklace was slipped under her t-shirt, guarding her rapidly beating heart.

'It's like no other pain I've ever known'

That same heart ached at even the concept of him leaving her side, yet somehow there the reality was painted, harsh and monochrome against the bold, colourful canvas of what had been her hopes and dreams for the two of them. Although with him, those dreams could have been driving around the city or sat in some reincarnation of his loft eating takeout from Kelso's, and it would still make her feel as though she was graduating from a hundred- no, a thousand - Langstons. Her sense of loss was so strong it manifested itself as physical pain - a common symptom of undergoing stress, she seemed to remember from one of their late-night 'study sessions', the knot in her stomach tightening at the fond, soon-to-be-bittersweet memory.

'To love someone so much, to have no control...'

Ellie could still feel her whole body pulse gently, perhaps not entirely from her emotions (although those threatened to overwhelm her), but from the intensity and fierceness of their last embrace before he left. That had been out of her hands, he had wanted to keep her safe - but her father pulling a gun on him only pushed the situation further out of her grasp. It seemed she had come full circle - from her cop father controlling her life to her breaking free, her forgiving him again, and back to him commanding the one thing she loved beside him; the boy with the car. Couldn't she have one untarnished goodbye out of the many to remember him by, without someone accusing them of something? Ellie's dad had only been trying to protect her, and she knew that - but her first everything had been putting HER first as well, being noble for Gods' sake! Even if it didn't feel like it to her...

'You said "I wanna see the world", and I said "Go"'

The look on his face had told Ellie one thing, yet his mouth spoke another. He had known she had plans for the future, and to him, he was getting in the way of those. With his words, he gently retracted himself from her life. He had been 'just some kid you caused trouble with in high school' to her father undoubtedly, but in Ellie's heart, she knew he was so much more. However, while he was saying that, his arms drew her in and she had melted into his touch. The sound of his car engine seemed to call out decidedly that his words had signified his true intentions.

'I think I'm lost, without you'

Without him, Ellie didn't know who she should be anymore. He was the one who brought her into this life, who brought out this side of her. Every time she had been brave, or confident, or even remotely bold, it had been because of him, directly or otherwise? Whoever thought she'd dance at a secret warehouse rave? Or pass her driving test? Or even talk to Ingrid as an equal in any way other than academics? Going back to her old self felt as difficult as trying to separate water from the sand without filter paper. "Be the real you. the one that was always waiting to come out" he had said. She wanted to so badly, but how could she do that when so much of that person was based on him? It was just like Colt had said - every time she gets behind the wheel she will remember them and the year she had spent.

'I just feel crushed without you'

Ellie's emotions weighed down on her like the heavens on Atlas the Titans' shoulders. Whenever they had been driving or executing one of Kanaeko's master plans with the rest of the MPC, she had enjoyed - no, loved - his company, yet now she realised that once the others were gone he had been the one she needed the most of all of them. And now he was about to be gone, leaving her with a stolen car that Toby wasn't here to patch up, and the memories of fleeting touches long since past.

'I've been strong for so long, I never thought

how much I needed you'

Even when he had left after teaching her to fight, Ellie had not felt it with the same note of finality that this moment held. She had always thought there was a possibility - however small - of seeing him one last time. And now, even though she wished it desperately, Ellie knew he wasn't coming back. This time, too much was on the line.

'Strangers rushing past, just trying to get home.'

In the not-so-far distance, Ellie could hear the steady stream of LA traffic that the boy she loved would soon enter. She wondered - would they know a wanted street racer was cruising down the freeway amongst them? That that drive was breaking two hearts and would damage at least one more before the night was out? Nobody knew where he was going, however, not even Ellie. Her best guess was back to Detroit, but Ellie guessed that not even he knew where he would wind up tomorrow morning. Even that one suggestion could have been some sort of plot to make sure she didn't worry about him (although she would nonetheless) or found where he was. He knew her better than anyone, after all. She would only have agreed to Mona's terms if he had reiterated them.

'But you were the only safe haven that I've known'

Those words were true enough. Despite her father claiming to support her in everything she did, the one thing Ellie never knew she wanted had been right under her nose, kept away from her by the one who 'only wanted her to be happy'. Sure, Ellie understood that Grand Theft Auto wasn't exactly a conventional - or indeed safe- pastime, but not teaching her to drive only meant that once Ellie wanted to learn, she was dangerously inexperienced anyway! And look where that got her. With her driving license, of course (since Ellie, as her dad loved to brag, "succeeded in everything she put her mind to"), but with her friends a now orphaned teen with what seemed to be a world (or at least city) domination problem, a hardened criminal currently in hospital, soon to be jail with a bullet through her side because of her, and two mechanic - slash racers on the run, and a boyfriend (well, would-be, since they never defined the relationship, but an ex now involuntarily)being forced by her dad to leave the country at gunpoint.

The boyfriend who had taught her how to drive. Who had cared about her over the safety of his crew, or even being put in jail. Who had guided her through her first... everything, really. First kiss, first car, first heist - whenever Ellie needed him, he was there. And most importantly, she could say next to anything around him and he would listen and give advice without judgement. Even though she had missed the comfort of her bed whilst residing in his loft, that boy was - and Ellie had a feeling always would be - where her heart lived.

'Hits me at full speed, 

Feels like I can't breathe 

And nobody knows'

As soon as the key had turned in the ignition, the Devore roaring to life, Ellie's breath had been knocked out of her as fast as if her car could have accelerated from 0 to 100 in a nanosecond. All she wanted to do was scream and howl at the sky, to God, to anyone who would listen to try and get them to rewrite fate so that they could be together. She wanted to cry to Riya, but she knew that her best friend no matter how much they had in common would just take her to get ice cream and tell her 'these things heal in time'. She wanted to collapse at her mothers' feet as she frequently did in her dreams, but the tightness of the heirloom bracelet at her wrist reminded Ellie that that was impossible.

Most of all, however, she wanted her fathers' understanding; that she loved and had lost just as he had all those years ago. She remembered when her dad had met him for the first time properly, the anger he had wielded towards the boy who had put her in so much danger - who had saved her from it just as many times. The disbelief on his face as she explained that she loved this 'bad boy', this 'adrenaline junkie'  as she was sure her father addressed him in his mind. How the initial shock had moulded into fury at whatever 'trick' he was sure this criminal must have worked on his daughter. No, Ellie was sure he wouldn't understand for at least the next week or so.

'This pain inside me

My world is crumbling

I should have never

Let you go'

The first tear of what was to be many rolled down Ellie's already mascara-striped face as she fell to her knees. Her dad looked at her in surprise as she screamed in the middle of the street, and could see an identical tear roll down the face of the boy inciting it as he drove past the old man, wincing in guilt as the sound of his ride or die's anguish reached his ears. Had it maybe been the wrong thing to do? Had he maybe... underestimated the intensity of the teenagers' emotions? Undoubtedly, but he had to protect his daughter from going down the wrong path.

Ellie's jaw tightened as her father dared to look vaguely upset at the situation. He was the one worsening it after all. It was almost shameful of him to have judged her (literal) partner in crime so quickly. After all, when had he ever hurt her with bad intentions at heart? Ellie realised that her anger was not directed towards her father, but rather towards herself for allowing this to happen. She couldn't have stopped him leaving, but she could have made sure they were farther out of her dads' line of sight so they would have a chance of a 'proper' goodbye, whatever that was;  the one year had spent with him and the crew had felt far more meaningful than any of the 18 she had gone through alone, to the point where the mere thought of goodbye was heartbreaking.  And she had simply let him be treated in that way by her kin?

'I've been strong for so long, I never thought

How much I love you'

Earlier in the evening, once she had dispelled all of her nervous energy, her mind had been solely focused on bringing Shaw and The Brotherhood down. But once that had come to pass, her emotions had hit her like a ton of bricks. The Mercy Park Crew had no reason to stick around now Teppei was dead; it was time to find a new gang. For Colt and Mona, leaving had not been a choice. The latter's injury and the formers' determination to build his name in LA's criminal underworld saw to that. Saying goodbye to each of them had been no easy task, and she had half expected him to have skipped town already, to save them both the heartbreak of saying goodbye. But that had not been the case, as he had stepped out of the darkness to say one final farewell. 

Tears had soaked Ellie's skin at the words he spoke, as they did now as he drove away. Her guard had been up during the heist, channelling her anger and determination to have Jason put behind bars, along with Detectives Wallace and Hester. But when she was around the crew, those she considered close enough to be family, Ellie had broken down. She had been fierce and brave then; that had been to cover up her paralysing fear of losing them again. Of losing herself again. His goodbye had hurt the most, like a slap to the face, short and painful but with lasting effects.

Throughout the brief conversation, their relationship had played through her mind; not just from her perspective, but what it must have been like for him.  How on that day, what seemed to be casual flirting and general friendliness must have been tiptoeing through a minefield for him. A single wrong move and the whole crew could be placed at risk. The initial shock and rush when driving from the cops leading to the beginning of their relationship. How in each moment Ellie fell deeper in love with him, he was doing the same, only that feeling of freefalling was paired with the guilt of tricking her, and the fear of letting her in at the risk of his emotions and her safety - concerns which were not calmed by certain complications they had run into along the way. This myriad of memories only emphasised the emptiness Ellie felt in her heart now.

'Standing on the platform, watching you go.

You said, "I wanna see the world" and I said "Go"'

As Ellie felt the tarmac of the sidewalk dig into her knees and tears roll down her face, she watched as the car she knew so well turned into the next street. When the car swung around, she caught a glimpse of its driver, his eyes trained on hers, smiling weakly through tear-filled eyes. Regret was written undeniably in his gaze, but he was trying to put on a brave face for her to remember him by. Trademark. A thought that once would have put a grin on Ellie's face now caused her to sob in sorrow, grieving the little moments that comfortably passed between them that she was sure could not be replicated with anyone else. She shot him back a brief smile, equally bittersweet in the less than perfect moment, and the last words he said to her echoed in her mind.

"Give 'em hell, troublemaker"

His car finally moved out of sight, and Ellie suddenly felt the repressed need to call out for him spring out in full force; now that her father had walked inside she felt less pressured to avoid the elephant in the room, at least out loud.

"Logan..." she choked out to no one in particular, as she rubbed her road marked knees the way he would have done and slowly got up.

Later, after she had deleted their messages from her phone and laid in her bed in silence, she took off the necklace from around her neck and placed it on the adjourned pillow. "Logan." Ellie whispered to herself as if in the affirmation that he had been real.

She had been lucky to know him. Too bad there wasn't a next time to be ready for.